When the Cracks Appear
by w8ing4huddy
Summary: Starts with the last part of the episode Two Stories.   Personal disclaimer: You know me, I love angst.  Be prepared.
1. The Pieces Don't Fit Anymore

Disclaimer: House, M.D. is 100% David Shore's possession.

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_(Don't hate me. I know most of those who read my… "work"(?) are anxiously awaiting an update for ATEOHR. I would sadly tell you not to expect it this week because I've got so much on my plate and therein also ask for mercy for uploading a short and sad potential... ficlet? Is that the word for it? I'm just… upset about how this last episode ended. Well, and how it portrayed Huddy. __It was a hard one for me to watch. House was… more of a jerk than normal, in many ways, and Cuddy… left me beyond disappointed also._

_This ficlet or whatever it is begins with the last part of the episode which I have in bold to specify that it's from the episode, though of course, speculations as to emotions and feelings represented and reflected, are my own. The chapter is named for James Morrison's song.)_

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_Ch. 1 - The Pieces Don't Fit Anymore_

Friday

**House entered her office and she looked up at him with dismissal already reflecting in her expression.**

"**I'm busy," she brusquely said.**

"**I know," he concurred as he shut the door behind him, not surprised when she was further irritated by his violating her clearly intended brush off in the slight smack of his lips before he pushed onward with his purpose for interrupting her, the obvious fact that he wasn't yet disposed to just allow her to continue whatever she was working on forcing her to resignedly give him her attention. She undoubtedly viewed this as another example of how he didn't respect her. But he didn't see it in that light, not that maybe there wasn't some truth to how he should probably make a greater effort to respect her **_**more**_**. He just… hated when things were like this between them. He couldn't leave them alone. It wasn't in his nature. And anyway, he knew she was right. He owed her an apology.**

"**I just wanna say that I'm sorry," he forced himself to continue as he headed towards her in order to take a seat across the desk from her, not really knowing why he was making as if he'd be staying but wanting to demonstrate that if she wanted to yell at him more, he wasn't avoiding **_**that**_**.**

"**Shouldn't you be saying that to Sanford Wells?" Cuddy asked with only a modicum of underlying sarcasm before she almost snidely pressed, "A fifth grade career day? You really thought you could pull that off?"**

"**I figured… how hard could it be?" he said before sighing and then admitting, "And, I wanted to prove to you that I **_**do**_** care about your needs. And Rachel's."**

**He watched as she wiped a hand over her face in response, probably thinking that he'd screwed up if that had been his goal, his reasoning for his actions faulty as always and his methods of carrying out his intentions nothing short of contrary to what a logical,**_** normal**_** person would have done in his place. Not that House had ever done anything to leave her with the impression that he in any way qualified as **_**normal**_**. But in analyzing her, that didn't mean he missed the following look that to him read, "**_**This**_** ought to be good," despite the words going unspoken.**

**House was quick to add, "**_**I do**_**," feeling the need to reassure her that he… well, **_**did.**_

**Maybe a part of her believed that or at least was still disposed to, he couldn't help but think, because her tone laced with slight curiosity now, she asked, "Is that why you also stole my computer?"**

"**Yes it is," House immediately acknowledged, nodding slowly.**

"**And then threw it in the trash?" she continued more pointedly.**

"**I… did not throw it. I '**_**placed'**_** it… knowing that the janitor would find it and know it was yours and return it to you, **_**unharmed**_**," he couldn't help quibbling, reasoning it out and arguing the Semantics because… Well, he didn't know **_**why**_**. He just did it because… that was what he did. Catching himself though, along with the pointed tilt of her head and the raised eyebrow, he confessed seriously, "I'm a moron. But that doesn't mean that I… I don't **_**care**_** about you, that I don't think about you, that I don't want you to be happy. I was wrong; you were right. I can do better. Just… give me a chance."**

**Her expression didn't change as she stared at him for a moment but then she inquired, making an effort of… **_**some sort**_**, "So what were you? An astronaut or a bullfighter?"**

**He didn't miss or undervalue her attempt at teasing him, but the briefer his answer, the better, he figured. He'd already dug himself into a deep enough hole. The last thing he wanted was to pull out a shovel and dig deeper. "I was myself," he replied. "For the most part."**

**Her frown became more evident as she looked down and House couldn't say that he felt any better either. Being himself had gotten him in plenty of trouble lately. Being himself… wasn't acceptable any longer.**

**Trying to think of what to say or do now, he finally settled on saying, "I know you're still upset so… I'm gonna… leave you to deal with that however you want." Then he pushed himself out of the chair to exit her office, frustrated that he couldn't seem to do anything right in this.**

"**House…" Cuddy began, her voice then falling away for a moment as she weighed her options of possible responses she could give him.**

**He stopped at the door and looked back at her, waiting.**

**Hesitating, she stroked a hand down her arm almost as if she was reassuring herself about her decision to let him off the hook somewhat before she straightened a little in her seat, picking back up in an attempt at meeting him halfway, "You wanna come over for dinner tonight?"**

"**I'd love to," he accepted, evoking a slight smile from her in response. Digging in his inside coat pocket, he pulled out a toothbrush, showing it to her to further express his intentions to do better, her eyes revealing her affection for him in the seconds following as even **_**he**_** managed a slight smile before leaving her office.**

House walked away, heading for the elevator to go up to his office, but when the elevator doors shut behind him, leaving him alone within it as it began its ascent, the slight smile he'd still had on his lips melted away.

They seemed to be… _okay_ again.

So why didn't he feel better?

* * *

"Hey," Cuddy said simply in greeting when she opened the door that night, obviously exhausted after a long day, meeting his eyes with a small smile before turning away to re-enter the house and head back to the kitchen before anything on the stove could burn.

"Hey," he replied back, watching her move away from him, not about to point out the fact that she hadn't bothered to kiss him hello because he wasn't even sure he was back within her good graces completely enough to "deserve" said token of affection just yet. But all the same he hesitated in the doorway a moment before he took the step that would bring him inside as he still felt like all he'd have to do was say or do one thing wrong and she'd slip through his fingers altogether. And the odds of that happening if he wasn't _extremely_ careful tonight were against him as always, while the possibilities of just how he would next screw up, no matter when it happened, were endless.

He turned and shut the door behind him, hearing little feet rush his way as he turned back around again to stare down at Rachel where she came to a stop, staring up at him silently, her little mouth upturned at the corners into her almost constant shy smile. He met her gaze, returning the stare, wondering how someone so small could still intimidate him so.

"Rachel," Cuddy called out before he could think of anything to say to her, clearly summoning her back to the kitchen.

Rachel and House glanced in the direction of the kitchen at the same time but then she looked back at him before reaching up to take his hand and House pursed his mouth but allowed her to hold onto him as she then led him in the direction of her mother, almost dragging him in her hurry to obey before she was called a second time.

Cuddy glanced up when the two entered, her eyes falling to their linked hands and feeling a wave of what she always felt in such moments, her breath catching as her heartbeat seemed to thunder in her ears, but when she looked up at House after glancing at Rachel, shooting her a sweet smile even as the little girl released her hold on him, House's eyes didn't meet hers, not even to roll at how he must have known she'd react to this display of… _something_, his attention focused on Rachel as she pranced back to the toys she'd been playing with on the kitchen floor, just out of Cuddy's way.

"Dinner will be ready in ten minutes," Cuddy murmured then in part to get his attention, her eyes not leaving his face.

He nodded distractedly before his eyes then swung slowly to her, meeting her gaze, and it was as if in doing so he finally came to a decision he'd been struggling with. Cuddy saw it in his eyes and her forehead knit as the smile on her lips slipped in uncertainty, not knowing what was wrong now but knowing without having to be told that… _something_ wasn't right. Surprisingly, this time it wasn't on her end.

"I'm not going to stay," he mumbled, his eyes dropping to the floor and Rachel again while avoiding hers.

Cuddy took a slight step back in surprise, confusion taking over her expression as she unconsciously placed her bottom lip between her teeth, worrying it. "Why?" she finally queried almost inaudibly.

House shook his head, his eyes squeezing shut in pain, but then he opened them, sighed, and blinked several times before looking up at her again with reluctance. He swallowed hard but then acknowledged, "This isn't working. It's not. Every time I think we're okay, I end up screwing up. And since I'm incapable of _not _screwing up, it doesn't take a genius to know this isn't going to work long-term. You _know _that I'm a jerk; that I'm rude and abrasive. I say things I don't mean. I don't weigh my words before I say them. I don't…"

"House," she began forcefully, interrupting him, her eyes wide at his sudden about-face, going from working to make things right to unexpectedly giving up completely. And it _was _unexpected, because while she knew he was afraid of a fall-out and didn't feel he deserved to be happy with her anyway, she'd never in a million years have expected _this; _for _him _to look to end it.

But he held up a hand to stop her, halting her as she'd unconsciously shifted herself to take a step towards him.

He cleared the obstruction in his throat before honestly acknowledging, "I love you. But I suck at showing you just how much I _do _care about you. And I can change. I _will _change. I _will _do better because… I do want to. But it has to start right now and that means admitting that you _shouldn't_ settle for me." Pursing his lips sadly, he looked away before adding gruffly, "I'm sorry Cuddy. I was… wrong to let you end things with Lucas. I…"

"That was my _choice,_" she instantly corrected, butting in before he could push on with his spiel, her tone adamant and without regret, her head shaking as her eyes locked on him.

He nodded to acknowledge that but continued nevertheless. "It doesn't matter. I'm at fault for allowing you to waste your time all the same. I thought we could make this work. I _wanted _to make this work. I wanted _us,_" he stressed, his agony in failure evident in his haggard expression.

"House, you _have _us," she interjected anxiously, her hands meeting and wringing together before her quite unbeknownst to her because she somehow knew he would not welcome her touch right now, the food on the stove behind her also forgotten.

He looked away, his mouth twisting, but then he mumbled, "No, I don't. You ended it the other day because…"

"I didn't… _end_ it. I _didn't_," she countered instantly, her head shaking wildly, wondering how in the world what she'd said in frustration had somehow been twisted into _this_.

"…because I used your toothbrush and didn't take out the trash when you asked me to," he continued as if she hadn't spoken.

"But House I…" Cuddy began desperately, surprising _herself_ with the panic suddenly encroaching in her voice, the triviality of what he'd just cited her reasons for being actually making her think she'd chosen the wrong thing to push him on for the first time.

He met her gaze once more but he was… _unstoppable_ in his determination to unload all he was thinking, that was all she could conclude, and Cuddy somehow got too caught up in trying to follow him and _understand him _so she could then _reason with him knowledgeably, _to force him to stop. He just kept right on going, somberly agreeing in the next moment to what she'd said several days ago now.

"And you have a right to expect that I would do things for you. And you certainly have a right to my respecting something as simple as leaving your toothbrush alone after you specifically asked me to. The truth is, I _don't_ always think to do the little things you'd want me to and even worse, I don't do them even when you _do _ask me to. I have to be contrary. I have to challenge you. It's who I am. I want whoever wins to have fought for it. I don't even care _who _that is. I just want that challenge. And I'm selfish. I am. I am a self-centered son-of-a-bitch, just like you accused me of being. I can't _blame you_ for complaining that I don't often put you and your needs before my own. I dismiss it in part because… you look out for your _own_ needs. You don't _need_ me to, Cuddy. You don't need _me. _You just… sometimes _want_ me," he quietly proffered before continuing, "I'm the one who needs you. But… that doesn't mean we should be in a relationship. And that's where I made my mistake. Because I wanted so much to _be _with you but I… don't make you happy. Instead I make you miserable. And… that's not what I want. Maybe you think it is but it's not."

His words fell away but only long enough for him to release a pent-up breath before dropping his eyes to the ground and admitting, "You say that I _might_ love you but that I don't care for you and while I… disagree, I do agree that… you deserve better. At the same time, Cuddy, I'm not sure that however much I try I'll ever be good_ enough. _I think I'll always just end up falling short of who you want me to be. And that… makes me think it's better for us to just call it quits now."

"House, I don't want to call it quits," Cuddy was quick to force out, knowing she needed to respond to his statements but not yet sure how to, needing time to formulate her response, the fact that this had happened catching her off-guard, overwhelming her own ability to respond promptly. "I want to make this work. I… love you," she expressed, searching for the right thing to say in this moment and not knowing if logic or emotion was what she should aim for. "I…"

House squeezed his eyes shut as she spoke but then forced himself to look up at her as he interrupted her this time to plainly state, "I know that you care about me, Cuddy. I've never doubted that. But… you don't love me."

Cuddy sucked in a breath of disbelief, completely flabbergasted by his latest pronounced conclusion, but he didn't give her time to speak, his eyes locking on hers as he stated adamantly, almost confrontationally though without the anger that often accompanied such moments between them, "You love _parts_ of me, but not me as a whole. Not really. You love that I get so invested in a case and do what I want when I know I'm right because you don't necessarily have that freedom and can live vicariously through me. You love that I'm extremely intelligent and witty, even that I'm acerbic, because I can offer you the challenge you long for which no one else can. You love the way I make you feel when I look at you and when I make sexual remarks about your body because it makes you feel good about yourself. You love the way I need you because the truth is that you need to be needed. And you love the way I touch you because I _know_ you and I know how to touch you the way you want to be touched, without you having to tell me or draw me a diagram with step-by-step instructions. And I'm not saying any of that is _bad. _I'm just…" House paused, sighing, and then quietly mumbled, "You love me for what I can do for you. You also love me for who you think I can be instead of… who I am. And I don't even take issue with _that_ except that… you don't accept me anymore, not like you used to once upon a time, and that means that you get stressed when I fail to measure up to your expectations. And I disappoint you _constantly_. Which means _I _get stressed out by how I'm always messing things up and everything then centers around how to get you _un_stressed. I feel like I need you so desperately Cuddy that when you're upset with me, it's all I can think about and suddenly I'm not doing my job, one of the few things I do well if not _right_, because I'm spending every moment I can trying to figure out how to make you happy or appease you so that you won't end things with me. It's not working. I _know _I mess up. I know that. But you have all the control in our relationship, Cuddy. And if you don't see that, then just think about the time we've been together. For instance, sex. You use withholding sex to control me; to bring me back in line; to get me to do what you want me to. _Fine. Whatever. _That's what women… _do_ and I can deal with that. But I find myself retaliating by making everything with you about sex _all the time_, which has to drive _you _nuts but it's because it's the one thing I _know _I can do right for you and… And then I fall into making our relationship about the sex; whether because I'm a _man_ or because that's actually something I can please you in, it doesn't matter. But at the same time, you fall into making it about me changing to better suit what you want me to be, which you probably deserve but which, no matter what efforts I make, I doubt I will ever be able to change _enough _to suit your version of Mr. Perfect. Come on, Cuddy. The truth is this is no longer a relationship. This is an unwritten… _contractual agreement_, the terms of which are set in stone and not to be violated. I obey, you give me sex. You give me sex, I better obey."

Cuddy couldn't believe what she was hearing and she drew back, clearly offended, but House gave her a pointed look before asking somberly, "Relationships involve compromise, don't they? Isn't that the crap people like Wilson are always nagging on about? When was the last time you compromised, Cuddy? When was the last time you acquiesced for something _I_ wanted? I don't mean the last time you _tolerated _me or what I wanted. I mean the last time you bended for _me_. I'm always testing the boundaries because I don't know how to do anything _but _that. There's all these behavioral _guidelines _I'm suddenly up against. But I'm _trying_. _I really am_. But I fail too. And let's be honest in this Cuddy, you're always going to be the one to end things. I feel like I'm just waiting, all the time I'm _waiting_, for the roof to come caving in on me. So I just… I think I _accept_ your decision from the other day. I accept that you're done. Because… you're _right_. And I _do_ need you in my life. But I'm not necessarily good in yours. Not the way things are. So if we can end this now and just… go back to you being my boss and me being your employee then… at least it will end before you no longer feel you need me _at all. _At least it will end before you arrive at a point where you never want to see me again."

House fell silent as Cuddy just gaped at him, breathing shallowly, but then he realized her food was starting to burn and stepped carefully to the side of her to turn the stove off while she sucked in a breath at his movement, not understanding what he was doing so much as caught off-guard by his change in proximity, it having brought him closer to her even if only to move about her and therein, complicating all she was feeling in this moment by adding one more factor to her imbalance. She wanted to speak but she couldn't gain control of herself enough to do so, something that she wasn't all that accustomed to ever happening. She turned to look at him, wanting to plead with him if only through her expression, just to find his regretful eyes upon Rachel, that throwing her off all the more.

"I'm… sorry, kid," she heard him voice then, something House couldn't help saying as he looked at Rachel who'd clearly been watching them this whole time, him having the sense to know and… regret that she'd been present for this falling out, even if it had been without yelling or any kind of hurtful accusations.

He stared into her wide eyes which were completely focused on him but then knew he just needed to get out of there and turned away, heading out of the kitchen without another word, not having anything more to say had he wanted to.

He wished he could say he was surprised when Cuddy made no move to follow him. But the truth was she couldn't have made him change his mind anyway. He was determined this was in Cuddy's best interest. And for once, he was going to make sure that was exactly who he was looking out for in the scheme of things. Removing the key to her house she'd given him months ago from his key ring as he came to her front door, he set it down on the table nearby before opening the door and stepping out, shutting it quietly behind him.

* * *

"_Don't go_," Cuddy managed to force out as she heard him in the front hall, something clinking against glass briefly in the process of him exiting. But it came out as a mere whisper and she knew immediately that there was no way he could have heard her as far away as he already was. And then the door closed almost soundlessly behind him, contrasting so starkly against when he'd left Monday morning, the door shutting hard enough then to wake Rachel because House just didn't think of things like that, and she rocked on her feet, having to grasp onto the counter beside her to steady herself, her throat working hard against the sudden knot constricting her airway and making it hard to breathe, her own mind trying to excuse this strong reaction because truthfully, she _hadn't_ felt all that well of late and so she'd rather believe it was due to _that _than that feeling like this was because this was really... _it _for them_._

The sound of a motorcycle starting up outside came to her ears and her eyes pressed shut as her chest tightened. She heard it leave her driveway, the sound slowly evaporating as House no doubt drove away, but she physically couldn't do anything to stop him; she didn't even have the necessary energy to _pursue_ him. Reaching blindly for the nearest chair she pulled it out and then sank slowly into it, opening her eyes to stare down into her lap, swallowing hard before a movement caught her attention and brought her eyes back to Rachel who had gotten to her feet and was uncertainly standing before her, watching her intently as the little girl played with her hands, a trait she'd obviously picked up from her mother's nervous actions.

"House not going to eat dinner with us mommy?" Rachel asked then, her eyes never wavering from Cuddy's face as she waited for a reply.

"Not tonight," Cuddy forced herself to admit, reaching up to brush aside the tear that fell in that admission before it could trek down her cheek in hopes that Rachel wouldn't see it and that she wouldn't actually break down just yet, before she sucked in a lungful of air, ordering herself to hold it together until she could feed Rachel and find herself a babysitter for the rest of the night.

* * *

"Can you go out or do you have to ask the _cat_ for permission first?" House dryly inquired of Wilson over the phone.

Wilson rolled his eyes but then suspiciously asked, "I thought you were having dinner at Cuddy's tonight?"

"Change of plans," he mumbled simply before demanding, "You want to bowl or not?"

Crap, Wilson thought to himself, shaking his head before releasing a deep breath, one hand on his hip and the other releasing his phone to be clutched between his shoulder and ear while he rubbed a hand raggedly over his face. Whatever had happened now, he supposed he should just be thankful House wasn't calling him from the bar, already completely wasted.

"I'll meet you in a half hour?" he found himself replying, his statement coming off as more of a question.

There was a click as House disconnected the call and Wilson reached up to remove his phone from where it was securely clasped before he glanced at the display to note the time, turning then to return the food he'd already begun preparing back into the fridge.

This had the potential of being a _very_ long night. He hoped whatever House had done to piss Cuddy off now, the damage he'd caused wasn't irreversible and he could make it right between them again without too much effort on his end. He wondered resignedly, not for the first time, what he'd done to deserve the role of being the sometime third wheel, sometime go-between, and full-time love counselor in this complicated relationship of theirs.


	2. Breakin' at the Cracks

Disclaimer: House, M.D. is 100% David Shore's possession.

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_(Colbie Caillat's song)_

_Ch. 2 – Breakin' at the Cracks_

Cuddy had called everyone on her list of standby babysitters but it would just figure that she'd have no luck finding someone available on a Friday night when she was most in need of one. The great majority hadn't even answered their phones and those who had already had plans and were either on their way out the door or already out doing something. She'd then resorted to offering to pay an _exorbitant_ amount of money, _in her opinion_, in hopes to cajole someone into changing their plans to help her out. But that hadn't worked for her either. She was still calling around when Rachel's bedtime came and she had to reluctantly set aside her phone to deal with her responsibilities, worrying her lip as she first changed the volume, setting it as high as it could go in hopes that someone would return her call while she was helping Rachel put her pajamas on and brush her teeth for bed.

* * *

Wilson eyed House as House eyed the pins at the end of the lane before releasing his bowling ball, managing a strike. He knew Wilson was currently burning a hole in his head but he ignored that, stepping out of the way so that his best friend could take his turn, reaching for his beer without making eye contact.

Wilson huffed his frustration with House's silence, mostly because he was a fixer and wanted to dig into the situation so he could help his friend out. He would have pressed him the minute he'd arrived but for the fact that House appeared to be doing fine, something that had caught him off-guard immediately, disarming him from the usual routine he'd typically resort to and making him think it wasn't as big a deal as he'd thought while on the phone with his friend. The way House usually came running to him whenever he and Cuddy hit a snag standing in contrast to the present, Wilson figured his assumption that whatever had happened was in reality nothing, was a safe one. So he resolved to focus on the game, figuring House would open up when he was ready to or when he had enough alcohol in him to loosen his tongue, not that that was usually how things went with House, he realized in even thinking that for a half-second. House wasn't one to spill out his secrets while drunk. He knew him well enough and had seen him drunk enough times to know that. House… had too many trust issues and safety guards to ever allow alcohol to work on him in that way. At least, not without that being his intention. And even if it had worked like that, House was still on his first beer. That hardly gave Wilson reason to think he'd be pouring out his sordid tale, or not-so-sordid tale as it remained to be seen, without that being a voluntary decision House made.

But as they finished their first game and began their second, House's half of the pizza Wilson had ordered still practically untouched, he resigned himself to having to ask.

"What happened with Cuddy?" he queried, not bothering with an attempt at going the indirect route, and at the same time, being careful not to add _"this time"_ so as not to push House in the direction of keeping his mouth shut.

He didn't immediately reply and Wilson stepped up to take his turn, frowning at his friend's silence as he lined himself up with the pins.

"She ended it," House said nonchalantly just as Wilson moved to release the ball, his shock at House's casual announcement causing the ball to drop with a thud, barely missing his foot before it rolled forward and to the side and right into the gutter.

Wilson worked to catch his balance before he spun around to stare at his best friend but House was watching the ball as it ever so slowly made its way halfway down the lane before coming to a stop, a grim smile forming on his face as his mouth twisted.

"_Why the hell would she do that?_" Wilson demanded, slightly irritated with how House had most probably _intentionally_ broken his concentration to induce his failure to deliver the ball to its intended destiny but more so with House for screwing up _again._

House turned and signaled a worker cleaning up a spill a few lanes over, his movement causing Wilson to glance back over his shoulder, shaking his head at the ball's frozen position before he redirected his attention once more to House, a hand coming up to rifle through his hair while his other hand settled on his hip, his body language easily conveying his frustration.

"Why do you think?" House just replied evenly, avoiding Wilson's gaze by watching the worker who was now on his way down the lane to retrieve the ball.

"Well I'm sure you've given her an hundred and one reasons to end things but just tell me what you did this time so I can help you figure out how to fix them," Wilson sardonically retorted before half-heartedly quipping, "One of us might as well be in a semi-functional relationship."

House glanced at his best friend, his expression hardening slightly at the first words out of his mouth, but in the end he just shook his head dismissively before dryly urging, "How about we skip the chitchat and _bowl?_"

"How are you going to fix this?" Wilson pressed, fingertips pushing against his temple, wanting to hear whatever obnoxious plan House had already concocted that he didn't feel Wilson's help would be necessary.

"I'm not going to," House firmly replied, reaching for his beer to take a drag before he jerked his head at Wilson for him to make another attempt at knocking down some pins. "You going to take your turn or not?"

When Wilson made no move whatsoever, House shrugged, heading for the computer screen, and with resignation Wilson held up a hand as if to warn him he _better not_ cancel out his turn, which House caught from the corner of his eye and came to a stop in accordance with, though with obvious internal resistance.

"Finish your turn," he grunted in irritation and Wilson expelled a breath, his hand once more raking through his hair, but about-faced to retrieve his ball from where the worker had placed it back in the corral for him before wandering off to do whatever else was required of him.

"If you can't make it work with Cuddy, you can't make it work with anyone," Wilson muttered loud enough for House to hear.

"You're not telling me anything that I don't know," he was surprised to hear his best friend mumble in acknowledgement a full minute later.

"So what are you going to do?" he repeated, the tension that had built up in his shoulders relaxing as he turned back to look at House, reaching for his own beer while House took his place out on the lane, thinking his friend was just being difficult.

"Nothing," he once more enforced.

"You're just giving up?" Wilson asked, not hiding his annoyance one iota.

"Looks that way," he agreed with a jerk of his head.

"You're an idiot," Wilson dryly informed him.

"Yup," was the short, curt response he received.

* * *

Cuddy wiped tears of frustration away as she paced her living room, the phone to her ear, once more having entered the speed dial number for House on her cell. When it went to voicemail again she hung up and threw her phone across the room in semi-controlled anger, watching as it bounced from one cushion to the next before slipping into the crack where the armrest met the padding of that cushion. She didn't bother retrieving it, it still being well within view, the cushions too plump to swallow it into the interior of the couch easily and enough of the speaker exposed to know she'd hear it if it rang. She'd called his cell phone numerous times and his apartment number along with it, but intentionally or not so intentionally, he wasn't answering, and she refused to leave him a message, wanting to actually hear his voice and speak with him directly.

She'd called Wilson a half dozen times as well, indignantly leaving him a message the third time around, and she was more pissed off by the fact that he wasn't answering than she was by House's apparent disinterest in attending her calls. In part it was her desperation for a babysitter that had driven her to call Wilson the first time but now her irritation with him went beyond that as she overreacted and began to think he was _intentionally _not attending his cell phone, a reasonable conclusion to reach in her overworked state as Wilson always carried his cell phone with him, too conscientious to not do so.

A sob tore from her throat, surprising her, and she sank into a nearby chair before her eyes went to the carpet. She was being unreasonable. She was _overreacting_. This wasn't over. How could it be? House was just doing what was customary for him; running away when things got tough. That didn't mean he wouldn't be back. He was needy and if nothing else brought him back, his fear of being alone _would_. She was convinced of that. And she'd let him in, giving him another chance as she was consistently known to do. She wouldn't even make him… grovel or pay for it in any way. She'd just accept that he'd been scared and forget the _insane_ accusations he'd made which in no way would hold up if examined carefully in light of their relationship.

Frowning as she sniffed hard, rubbing a hand under her nose while trying to blink back her tears, Cuddy somewhat unwillingly allowed herself to think about just _what_ he'd said as she sucked in a deep breath, the addition of oxygen necessary for her lungs to continue functioning at present. He'd been wrong. He was _so _wrong. But… Well, if there was truth to _anything_ House had said, it was that _if _this was to ever come to an end, it would be because _she'd _finally had enough. She didn't like acknowledging the truth of that, simply because it made her sound even to her own ears as if she was wholly and _despicably_ proud in knowing that to be reality, though she knew it nevertheless to be the case. He could be a real ass at times but he needed her, he'd freely admit it, and she knew him well enough to… know he wouldn't walk away and even if he threatened to, how to reel him back in. Controlling him had become second-nature to her after all. It had been a necessary part of her job for years now. While that didn't at all mean she could actually keep him from doing whatever he wanted in the first place, it usually meant she could handle him in the aftermath and correct him _eventually _so that he...

Cuddy frowned, realizing what she was thinking and the direction her thoughts were heading in, something within her speaking loudly enough in protest for her to recognize her thoughts weren't _right_. This wasn't how relationships were to work. It… _wasn't _about controlling the other person. And yet…

Cuddy sucked in another deep breath, suddenly appalled and now genuinely disposed to think over just what he'd said because she _needed to_, her pride taking enough of a hit to retreat from the perilous pathway her thoughts had been going down, needing to consider this more (which kind of seemed ironic as she concluded that her _pride, _along with her need to be in control, was currently part of her problem); needing to actually weigh the truth of House's words _not _so that she could know how to handle him but so she could know if he'd been accurate in what he'd said, it no longer mattering so much that she'd accused him days ago of always being right, her recollected annoyance in _him _taking that stance – of always having to be right – dissipating immediately.

She sat there for some time, her mind oddly completely blank before she unconsciously pushed herself to her feet, walking slowly to the couch to grab her phone before she turned the lights off in the living room, slowly heading back into the hallway to lock the front door for the night, no longer in a place where she could go after him _without _actually working through their exchanges of the last week first on her own.

She flipped the lock and turned to head for her room, a hand out to hit the light switch when she awkwardly came to a halt, the glint of light reflecting off something metallic bringing her eyes to the entryway table she had in the hall. Her heart seemed to jerk to a halt in the same moment as she was robbed of her breath, her eyes having fallen on the key lying upon the glass inlet. She… That wasn't where she kept her spare key. That… wasn't even her spare key. That was… _House's_ key, which she'd given him only a month ago, joking that he'd no longer have to resort to breaking in.

Feeling sick to her stomach Cuddy closed her eyes and turned away so as not to see it, as if that would mean it wouldn't be there the following morning when she came back out, as if the image of it lying there wasn't already burnt into her retinas and impossible to forget, before hitting the light switch as she'd intended, feeling her way awkwardly against the wall in her distracted and erratic trek to her room before sinking on her bed after the bedroom door was shut behind her, crawling up to the headboard and then reaching for the pillow House usually claimed, clutching it to her chest as more unexpected tears started gathering in her eyes and streaking down her face, a hand reaching out to grab a Kleenex before she worried it in her fist, finally thinking about just what he'd said in the short while in which he'd been over, finally allowing herself to consider that whether she wanted this or not, he had opted to end things and what was worse, might just have meant it.

* * *

Wilson looked up at House, frowning deeply.

"_It's not like it was ever going to work out for us anyway,"_ House had mumbled out of the middle of nowhere.

He didn't even know how to reply to that. He didn't want to dismiss it as an excuse too quickly because House would then tune him out for the rest of the night. At the same time, he had another reason why the statement merited a response of some sort, and not because Wilson hadn't wondered exactly that more times than he could count but because _despite that_, reality was that… he wasn't sure that was true. After all, it hadn't taken him all that long after finding out that House and Cuddy were in fact actually trying out a relationship to remember that Cuddy herself was a screw-up when it came to personal relationships, having enough conversations with her over the years to have heard it all, albeit a screw-up for different reasons than those for that being equally true of House. He'd oddly viewed that as comforting, rather than as an impending death knell to what they were trying for; that being finding happiness _together_. Honestly, he'd been surprised she'd lasted as long as she had with Lucas. He'd kinda figured she'd have gotten bored with him faster. Lucas… wasn't a challenge for her. At least Wilson had never seen it that way. The guy was young enough and… immature enough to appreciate and not question Cuddy's take-charge attitude and tendency to try and control things but… Wilson had always figured she'd _want _a greater challenge than that. That's why her choosing to take a chance on House hadn't overly surprised him when all was said and done. In House she'd gotten that and more.

"Why not?" Wilson settled on inquiring thoughtfully as he released the ball and watched it make its way down the lane, his tone objective and without indication of how he leaned in regards to the statement House had made.

"She deserves better," House huffed, shaking his head while Wilson momentarily smiled at the spare he'd achieved after three consecutive rounds of knocking down exactly seven pins each time before his expression changed as he pondered House's statement.

"Well, then become what you think she deserves," Wilson pointed out, giving him a look to that effect. "You can do better, House. You already _are_ doing better. You make an effort. You make a _surprising_ effort," he added honestly, not because he thought House was unaware of that but because he figured the reminder couldn't hurt all the same. "I mean, considering you're _you_," he quantified before continuing, "No one can reasonably deny that. You've made progress. Cuddy's been good for you. And relationships aren't easy. You aren't half as hopeless as you think you are."

House's mouth twitched at his friend's words and Wilson decided that was a promising sign, even if he didn't spot a smile per se. All the same he couldn't help wryly inquiring, "So are you going to go throw yourself at her feet again and beg for mercy?"

"No," House was quick to reply, surprising Wilson once more, his expression changing and turning more serious as he shook his head. "It's over for Cuddy and me but…"

"_But_…?" Wilson couldn't help prompting when House fell silent, not understanding his dismissal of his practical suggestion but further confused by the conjunction his statement abruptly ended in.

"I'm going to do better," he just mumbled, his attention having slipped away and onto something beyond Wilson's shoulder.

"_What?_" Wilson asked in absolute confusion, staring at his friend.

"I've got a patient," House mumbled then, throwing Wilson off again before instructing somberly over his shoulder as he limped away, "Make yourself useful Wilson and call me an ambulance!"

And Wilson turned and then watched in absolute disbelief as his friend hurriedly rushed off, wading through a currently forming crowd not a hundred yards away a minute later while sharply announcing himself to any and everyone gathered there as a doctor before Wilson reached for his cell phone to do as he'd been told, dismissing the Missed Calls message on his screen without a second thought as he made the call as instructed, his disbelief in House's convenient and quite lucky ability to always escape further conversation when opportunity presented itself, never failing to bewilder and mystify him.

* * *

Cuddy's head hurt from crying so profoundly for the past hour. It had finally and thoroughly hit her head-on like a semi truck careening into you from out of nowhere, midway through an analysis of just what House had said in the moments following his entrance into the kitchen, and while she kept reassuring herself she'd yet get him back, the fact that he'd walked away at all, but especially in the way he had, leaving her house key behind in the process, made her think she was seriously underestimating just how determined he was in his decision that things were over for them. But that was one thing she just couldn't accept. He'd been wrong. She _did _need him. And she needed him to understand that. She just had to figure out how to get that across to him.


	3. Free of Me

Disclaimer: House, M.D. is 100% David Shore's possession.

* * *

_(Joshua Radin's song)_

_Ch. 3 – Free of Me_

Saturday

House looked up from where he sat at his desk, perusing his patient's file as his team filed in through the conference room and then entered his office one by one. He'd called them the night before… Well, he'd called _Foreman_ and told _him_ to call the rest, but since they'd just finished their last case the day before and… he was the one who needed something to do to distract him anyway, _without _eyes constantly upon him, he'd just said to pass on the message that he'd look for them the following morning, not caring if anyone would think he was taking it easy on them in not having them come in right away, since the fact that he fully expected them to show up the very next morning after they'd just solved their last case seemed to cancel his "kindness" out.

House smirked when the first words out of Foreman's mouth were, "You couldn't even give us a weekend off?"

He tossed the file into the air, not bothering to respond, watching as Chase caught it and flipped it open resignedly, his mouth pursing as he began to review it, Taub trying to read it at the same time from beside him.

"He stroked out at the bowling alley you just happened to be at?" Taub asked almost suspiciously, raising an eyebrow after reading the notes, glancing House's way. "Cuddy didn't assign us this?"

"Nope," House said simply, pushing his chair back to limp around his desk, passing his team to enter the conference room ahead of them as they then followed him in.

House went to his whiteboard while the team took their seats and he heard a collective sigh as they reluctantly began the DDX.

* * *

Cuddy hesitated before deciding to just enter her key in House's apartment door, letting herself in. When the door opened without a chain blocking the way to keep her out, Cuddy sighed her relief and closed the door behind her. She'd spent the last several minutes knocking, not getting a response. Either he wasn't home, and it was rather early for him to have gone anywhere when he didn't have to, he was still asleep, or he was intentionally ignoring her insistent attempts to get him to open the door.

She'd finally managed to get a babysitter and had met the girl at the door, pressing a kiss to Rachel's forehead before passing her off and heading out the door and to her car. Now she slowly made her way through House's apartment, glancing about for signs of him, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor as she made her way to the bedroom, pausing briefly before she sucked in a breath and entered through the open door, her attention immediately turning to his bed.

It was haphazardly made, House not being in it, and Cuddy's shoulders fell as she released her breath through her nose, frowning before she turned in the direction of his bathroom, pushing open the halfway shut door to look within. But she already knew he wasn't home. The apartment _felt _empty. Worrying her lip, she stood in place, trying to think things through before she headed back through the house and turned into the kitchen, setting down the bag of breakfast she'd brought him as… a peace offering, demonstration of how she cared for him, _whatever_ he'd accept it as. Then she glanced about, looking for some signs of where he'd gone, before she headed for his couch, sinking down on it, deciding to wait for his return.

* * *

This was not how House had expected he'd ever spend the first day after what he and Cuddy had, came to an end. But then he'd kind of always concluded it would happen in a burst of explosive angry tears and hurtful words, not quietly and with acceptance underlying their conclusion. Scrubbing a hand over his face at how morose he suddenly felt he glanced down at the display on his cell phone as it rang again, Cuddy's ringtone sounding briefly before he silenced it. He'd glanced at his call log the night before but he'd had no reason to check his voicemail since he was at the hospital anyhow and none of his missed calls had been from anyone other than Cuddy. She'd called again today, this being her third time, but… he wasn't ready to go down this road. Whatever it was, it could wait.

House wasn't trying to be difficult. He wasn't even avoiding her per se, though he _had _chosen to play it safe the night before and all day long, not opting for any risky procedures that would require her authorization. But that didn't really seem to matter as the patient was stable, the situation not currently meriting desperate measures anyhow. Plus, it was too early in the case for any of his team to fight him on the procedures he chose or for Taub to become suspicious and accuse him of _anything_. Besides, House figured if he had to see her on Monday anyway, he could reasonably hold off until then.

"Test was inconclusive," Chase said then, having silently entered House's office unbeknownst to him.

House looked up at him, frowning, but then ordered, "Run it again."

Chase rolled his eyes but turned to do as he'd been instructed, still trying to figure out what had made House choose to take this case on, not able to identify anything very exciting present to attract him, even if they had no clue yet what was going on.

House watched him go, silencing his phone when it went off to tell him he had accumulated another voicemail message in his box. He didn't know why she was even calling him. She had no reason to. She could wipe her hands of him and move on now. So what was her deal? Did she just not like having it end _somewhat _on his terms? Maybe she just wanted to know when he'd be by for the few things he kept at her apartment.

Shaking his head, he drew in a deep breath but then pushed his chair out, needing to get away from his desk for a bit and stretch his legs before they cramped up, figuring he might as well tell his team to call it a night while he was at it.

* * *

When House hadn't shown up by 2 p.m., Cuddy hadn't had any other choice but to go home, even if only long enough to get Rachel and some of her things before taking her back to House's place with her, realizing that this was the first time Rachel had ever stepped foot in House's place to date, the few times she'd had her along, the two of them waiting in the hallway for him to finish getting ready before they left to grab a bite together before heading back to her place. It had caused her pause, mainly because she wondered if this would irritate House, Rachel being there in addition to herself, but also because it caused her to question why she'd never chosen to take Rachel beyond his doorway. House had always indicated they were free to step in, even if he did it without words. But she'd… never done so.

Cuddy frowned, startled by her own sudden recognition of the fact that in her mind, it was okay for her to be there but… not for Rachel to be. That obviously wasn't a boundary House had put up. But it was a boundary _she'd _kept to, even if unconsciously; up until now that is. Because she _had _brought Rachel in with her today, settling her with her toys and coloring books on the living room floor before she walked through the house again to see if he'd been home since she'd left. And she couldn't explain why she'd come back when it meant bringing Rachel with her, except that she didn't want another day to pass without this being straightened out between them.

Nothing had changed in the time she was gone. This morning she'd sat for hours on his couch, flipping through the medical journals he had strewn out on his coffee table and even reading several chapters in the Sherlock Holmes volume he had near at hand before she'd gotten up to use the bathroom, finding herself entering his kitchen afterwards, placing the bagged breakfast in the fridge for him once she'd remembered it before her hands absently searched for something to do at the nearby counter, halfway through sorting his clearly untouched mail pile realizing what she was doing, her eyes widening in surprise. She hadn't been snooping. Not at all. But she couldn't leave the task unfinished now that she'd started it and she'd finished before scribbling a post-it note in her defense just in case he came home and saw what she'd been up to in his absence, not appreciating it and what was worse, misunderstanding her motives which were really nothing more than just… boredom at being stuck there, waiting for him to show. Besides, it wasn't like she was cleaning his apartment or messing unduly with whatever form of organization he had going on here. His mail _completely_ lacked organization. Nevertheless, she'd quickly winded up back on the couch, trying to control her impulses to stay busy while she passed the time, waiting for him.

Now, Rachel with her and House still not answering his cell, Cuddy realized she needed a game plan of some sort. She also had more questions to answer, even if they didn't seem as pressing as her main reason for being there.

Rachel was getting bored. That was obvious in how she was fidgeting. As if to back this up her eyes flicked to Cuddy, a crayon rolling away from her absently, and asked, "Mommy, we goin' out to eat with House?"

It was no surprise that Rachel knew where she was. Even if she'd never entered, she'd been in the doorway and Cuddy had always explained every alteration they made in normal routine as if that was something Rachel needed, when she knew the little girl probably could have cared less, simply thankful to _not _be at home, where she spent the great majority of her days still.

Moistening her lips, her brow gathered as she contemplated her daughter. "I'm not sure what we're doing, Rach," she admitted honestly, her focus shifting when Rachel's eyes dropped back to her coloring book, Cuddy reaching for her cell phone once more.

The phone rang several times and she was only too grateful, though thinking about it still caused her stomach to clench with frustration, when Wilson picked up.

"Yeah?" he asked, much more calmly and directly than she'd ever expected.

Cuddy straightened where she sat on the edge of the couch but immediately inquired, "Why haven't you returned my calls from yesterday?"

Wilson paused but then, confusion underlying his words, replied, "I was out with House. I didn't hear the phone ring. Anyway, by the time I checked your messages, it was 11. You sounded frazzled but you wanted a babysitter. If you hadn't found one by then, it was a bit late for me to help you out."

Cuddy huffed out a breath, frustrated, but then ran a hand through her hair before echoing, "You were with House?"

"Yeah," he said simply, not expanding on that.

"Well?" she prompted in annoyance now.

"Cuddy, what do you want me to say?" Wilson demanded, irritated himself all of a sudden, having picked up on her attitude.

Cuddy bit her lip, suddenly drawing up short at his tone, but then hesitantly asked in a much softer voice, "How is he?"

Wilson rolled his eyes before he rubbed at the back of his neck, feeling his tension escalate. "I get that you probably expected he'd be wasted by now, downing Vicodin by the handful, or at the very least, screwing the first prostitute he could arrange to swing by, but…" His words dropped away as his fierce protectiveness was reeled back in and more calmly, he managed to add in a mumble, "He's fine. You ended things, he seems to have accepted that, and that's all I can tell you. It's not really your business anymore though. And if you two are done, it's probably best that I keep my mouth shut. On _both _ends."

"We're _not _done," Cuddy instantly defended, having first been shocked and then outraged by his outburst and then thrown by hearing House was actually fine in Wilson's opinion. "And _I _didn't end things! _He _did!"

It was a moment before Wilson replied but then he doubtfully mumbled, "Well, you should talk to him then because House seems pretty convinced that your relationship being over was _your _decision."

"I _would," _she stressed, "But he's not taking my calls. What did he _say?" _she then demanded, turning away from Rachel after having gotten to her feet, knowing she was on edge and nothing could hide that from her daughter, though perhaps she could control it a bit better or choose more carefully her proximity to the little girl while she had this conversation.

"He said you ended it," Wilson resignedly filled in. "That's about it."

"I _didn't,_" Cuddy forcefully pronounced before she reiterated her desire for more details by pressing, "What _else _did he say?"

"He…" Wilson frowned, not knowing why he was having this conversation with her but something in him wanting to believe in him doing so _she'd_ do what was needed to make this relationship with House _work. _"He just seemed… resigned to it being over. He said it wasn't like it was ever going to work out for you two anyway…"

"He has absolutely no faith in us," Cuddy interrupted, exasperated.

Wilson's frown deepened at her statement but before he could hold his tongue, he'd irritably snapped, "Well it's no wonder when you're always making him question whether you don't deserve so much better than what you're getting from him."

Cuddy halted in the middle of the kitchen where she'd gone to escape Rachel's presence, absolutely stunned to have him accuse her like that. Her mouth moved silently as she grappled for a response, reaching a hand out to steady herself on the counter.

But Wilson almost immediately regretted his sharp words and was already mumbling an apology. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to… But he _is _working hard in this relationship and you don't seem to be giving him any credit for that."

"But I know he's trying," she finally managed to whisper. "You and I have talked about this. I've told you how much he's trying and how much I appreciate that."

"Yeah well have you told _him _that? Because sometimes what a guy needs is not having his head banged against a wall to knock sense into him but some _positive _reinforcement. I'm not saying you've asked anything from him that's unreasonable, Cuddy, but at the same time…"

Wilson's words dropped off and Cuddy sighed heavily into the phone. "Do you know where he is?" she finally asked.

It was a minute before Wilson reluctantly negotiated, "I'll tell you tomorrow if you haven't heard from him by then. But since I think he's doing fine and... _not_ currently self-destructing, I think you should just… give him another day to work through things. He said something about how he's going to do better. I don't know why he would say that if he didn't expect it would make a difference between you two and reverse whatever happened last night that I'm still unaware of, but…"

"Why won't you just tell me?" she asked huffily, put out with him for knowing and not sharing.

"Because I think you could use the time to really think about what exactly _you _want," Wilson replied evenly, his tone nevertheless indicating he wasn't going to bend on this.

Cuddy expelled a breath but then mumbled, "_Fine_," not seeing any other choice but to accept his offer, even if that didn't exactly mean she was giving up on waiting for House to finally show his face at home. "I'll call you tomorrow at 8."

"I'm not telling you _anything _until after lunchtime," he disagreed forcefully, something in him holding to his guns because whatever had happened, he no longer thought it wasn't partially _her _fault. "Try me at 1 pm."

"One o'clock then," she responded abruptly, not sounding too happy with him.

"Alright," he agreed, his mouth twitching when he found she'd already hung up, wondering suddenly just how much House was rubbing off on her.

* * *

Sunday

House got to his feet once his team had once more vacated his office, stretching his cramped back. He'd momentarily contemplated going home the night before but… didn't really want to be there, confronted with the reality of his return to a solitary existence. So instead he'd vaguely pondered breaking into Cuddy's office and sleeping on her couch, away from the hustle and bustle of movement, it being a better option than the doctor's lounge, before he threw out that idea, not needing to be reminded of her either, and had finally fallen asleep in his Eames lounge chair. He'd gotten up long before his team had filed in, allowing him time to shower downstairs and change, but the fact that he was once more at the hospital before they arrived hadn't gone unnoticed and Taub had quickly dug into that observation, asking him pointedly why he was avoiding Cuddy.

He'd dismissed it with a vague reference as to how annoying she was getting, being so clingy of late, and while he'd received a few eyebrows, no one had commented, accepting that statement at face value for if it was true, they could easily understand why House would want to avoid her.

He sat back down and began to rub at the ache in his thigh, grimacing at the increase in pain. He would have liked to believe it was from not sleeping in an actual bed but he knew himself better than that by now.

"You may even love me…" he heard her say, a small fragment of her many statements made over the course of the last week coming back to hit him upside the head.

That… That just _sucked_, he thought to himself, frowning deeply as he stared off into space. He _may _love her? Where did she come up with this stuff? _May? _Hadn't he already told her so more times than he'd ever told anyone else, _including _Stacy in their five years of being together and his own _mother, _in the last fifty plus _years?_ Hadn't he spent _days_ trying to identify possible likes they had in common so as to ensure this relationship stood a fighting chance? Hadn't he called her mother to find out she'd liked go-karting at twelve? Hadn't he allowed himself to get trapped into going to her birthday dinner? Hadn't he held his tongue as she'd asked him to, for as long as he could? And for that matter, hadn't the fact that he was about to lose it when her own mother implied she was a slut, say _anything? _At the very least, that he _cared _for her? Maybe he could admit she had a potentially valid argument if she wanted to claim him drugging her mother had served his own agenda and that the apologies he'd extended for whatever he messed up in, even giving up Brandi, had in one way or another, benefited him in some way. Fine. But where the hell had she been when he'd agreed _against_ his better judgment to play undercover doctor behind her mother's back? Why exactly had she concluded he'd agreed to her _stupid_ plan? It hadn't been for personal gain; that was for sure. And if that didn't show him caring about her, if that didn't shift him from _may _to an outright _do love me, what would?_

Huffing out a breath he tried to remind himself that it didn't really matter anymore. But of course it still _did _matter. It mattered to _him._

He watched as his team entered the conference room again, plopping down into chairs, getting back to it as they brainstormed. And then he had his own flash of inspiration and settled his fingers on his computer's keyboard, searching for the information he needed. A couple calls later he had managed to get what he'd been looking for and another Internet search later he was shoving his chair back and himself to his feet, limping about his desk and heading for the conference room.

Chase began talking to him about their patient the minute he walked into the room but House ignored him altogether, pulling open the door to make his exit.

"Where are you going?" Foreman demanded, annoyed that House wasn't responding.

"Out," was all he mumbled.

* * *

Wilson glanced at his watch, noting it was 12:15. Sighing, he figured maybe he ought to check in with House, _not _to tell him about Cuddy calling but… to see how he was doing and just what he could get out of him. The phone rang only twice before House came on but the volume of background noise on the other end of the line had Wilson momentarily moving the phone away from his ear.

"Where are you?" he asked loudly just as House turned the stereo down in his car.

"Driving," he replied curtly. "And there's no need to yell."

"How can you even hear after having your radio up that high?" Wilson asked skeptically. "It's a wonder you're not already deaf."

House rolled his eyes, not bothering to respond to the question, but then dryly inquired, "Was there something you needed?"

"How's the patient?" Wilson began with.

"Alive," he replied evenly.

Wilson expelled a breath but then redirected, "How are you?"

"Fine," House huffed, clearly not wanting to talk about it.

Wilson pursed his mouth but ultimately queried, "Where are you headed?"

House waffled on whether or not he wanted to answer that question but finally figured one way or the other, it would be just enough to get Wilson off his back, at least for the time being. "I'm heading to Trenton. I tracked down the home address to where the principal of that school Cuddy had as her first choice for Rachel to attend, lives. Since I no longer have anything to gain by Rachel getting in and since I'm not dumb enough to think anyone but those who know me well would understand how I left to _not _be an indication of my simply being flaky, I figure I'll give it one last shot."

_"Why?"_ Wilson dryly asked, overlooking what Cuddy had said to inquire pointedly, "If you tell her Cuddy ended things with you, won't it still look like you're doing it to win her back? Won't it look just as self-serving?"

House frowned but Wilson didn't give him a chance to reply.

"And why are you bothering _anyway? Are _you hoping this will change Cuddy's mind about you?"

"_No," _House retorted instantly. "I'm just…" Snorting, he gritted his teeth before quietly mumbling, "If I'd left it alone and not looked for a way to get Rachel in, maybe Cuddy would have eventually made the effort to _try _to place her there, without my assistance. I'm just… correcting a mistake I made. I interfered and I shouldn't have bothered. It was a waste of my time and I might have just made things worse. Therefore…"

"I don't get it," Wilson cut him off to dismissively inform before he pressed, "But what is your game plan now?"

"I'm going to offer to make a donation," he said simply.

"Do you even know what size donation they'd be looking for as a bribe to get her in?" Wilson doubtfully asked.

"I figure if there's any chance I'm going to meet with success, she'll tell me when I'm standing at her door," he replied easily.

"And you don't think that you showing up at her door on a Sunday might get you kicked to the curb?" Wilson then prompted wryly.

"It's worth a shot," was all House said in reply.

"Let me know how it goes," Wilson mumbled then. "And feel free to call if you get in trouble for trespassing and need someone to come get you from jail."

House snorted again but hung up without a proper reply and Wilson figured since his friend was going to do whatever he wanted anyway, the best he could have hoped for was to remind him not to go _too_ far.

* * *

Cuddy only waited until the clock reached 12:56 to hit the button dialing Wilson's number, figuring that was close enough.

Wilson answered, sighing in indication that he knew she was calling several minutes earlier than he'd given her permission to but having already expected her to and furthermore, knowing that was actually a positive sign, her being anxious to get a hold of House.

"Where is he?" she asked worriedly without preamble. "I've been at his apartment all morning but I don't think he's even slept in his bed this weekend."

Wilson's eyes widened as he took in what she'd just revealed, not because he was surprised to find House hadn't been home, having already assumed that, but at her indication that she'd been waiting for him there. "_With Rachel?_" he couldn't help but ask in disbelief.

"_No_," she huffed in exasperation, just wanting an answer to her question. "Tell me where he is, Wilson. I can't keep booking babysitters like this. The weekends are when I usually dedicate my time to being at home. But I'm going crazy here and consequentially, I'm being a terrible parent at present. Where is he?"

Wilson's mouth curled up in a small smile but he worked hard to erase it before he casually acknowledged, "He's at work. He got a case Friday night and went in. I doubt he's left PPTH much at all, all weekend long."

Cuddy rocked on her feet in surprise, certainly not having expected that to be where House was. "But I haven't given him a case. No one even called to run one by me. And anyway, he just finished a case on Friday," she mumbled in confusion, trying to process.

"House assigned himself to the case," Wilson replied with a shrug she couldn't see.

"But..."

"Some guy stroked out at the bowling alley Friday night. I called an ambulance and House rode in with him. He saw something that made him think there was more to it than just your typical stroke. No one would have called you because they'd assume you already knew. You know everything about House these days. He hardly goes to _the bathroom_ without letting you know where to find him," Wilson dryly added, not meaning that as in House needing her permission but as in House calling her, hinting at a quickie, either because hinting had worked for him before, which somehow Wilson hadn't expected but now actually considered as possible given something House had once said while they'd both been in the bathroom at the same time, or because it would serve to goad her a little, livening things up a bit.

"Besides," he continued. "Unless he's asking for outrageous tests or procedures to be performed, no one would feel it necessary to check in with you. Since I'm assuming he's perfectly comfortable operating under your radar at the present time, I figure he's been going the safe, sure route which no one can yet object to. Anyway, it hasn't even been two full days yet…"

"But his team needs a couple days off," Cuddy interrupted to interject, frowning.

"I'm sure House is aware of that, even if there's no doubt in my mind that he's called them in anyway. He's not… going to want to be under observation right now, Cuddy. He's going to do what he can to get his team out of there whenever he doesn't really need them. And anyhow, if he's not doing crazy tests, chances are things have been slow moving," Wilson concluded. "If there was excitement, you'd have heard about it from _someone_. Besides, if they didn't want to go in, they're old enough to know how to say no. And _House _doesn't need the time off. He needs something to be busy with."

There was silence for a long moment as Cuddy processed but then she softly asked, "Have you… Have you talked to him since yesterday?"

Wilson wiped a hand over his face but then only mumbled, "_You _should be talking to him."

"What if he won't give me a chance?" she asked in a murmur, biting her lip as she stared at House's living room floor.

"What did you do?" he couldn't help but inquire, an eyebrow quirking at the hints of guilt in her tone. Seeing as Cuddy had never fallen out of House's good graces to date in this relationship of theirs, he was having a hard time hypothesizing exactly what had happened, not even House and Cuddy appearing to be in agreement over what had taken place, not that either one of them was truly offering him any details.

"I don't know," she breathily replied in a half-hearted attempt at dismissing the question.

"Well then you should probably figure that out before you go tracking him down," Wilson dryly returned, shaking his head. "And try not to corner him with his team around. He won't like that."

Cuddy nodded, forgetting that he couldn't see her. "Okay," she then thought to verbalize, her fingers descending to trail over the edge of the coffee table before her absentmindedly.

"Good luck," Wilson settled on replying, leaving alone the topic of just what House was currently up to.

"Bye Wilson," she said then, removing the phone from her ear before hanging up and getting to her feet, slipping her cell back in her purse nearby. She looked around one last time but then headed for the door only to pause, worrying her lip as a thought struck her and she pondered it before turning back, heading for his bedroom.

* * *

House limped up the long walkway to Ms. Field's house and rang the doorbell perhaps a tad bit more enthusiastically than he should have.

The door opened thirty seconds later and his gaze dropped from the height level where he'd expected her face to be to meet with the eyes of the little boy staring up at him.

"Jamaal, I told you to wait for…" Ms. Field's voice came to him, her words falling off when her son allowed the door to open enough for her to see who was standing on her doorstep, the little boy glancing back at his mom expectantly.

She came to an abrupt halt and then her eyes closed as she shook her head, breathing out a sigh of disbelief.

"I won't take up too much of your time but…" he quickly began, discreetly sticking his cane in the doorway incase she tried to shut the door in his face.

"_Dr. House_," she pronounced slowly, jerking her head while looking at her son to tell him he should go play. "_What _are you doing here?"

"I was hoping I could ask for one more minute of your time," he carefully began. "That poster for 'The Princess and the Pea' in your office triggered me into figuring out what was wrong with my patient and I left a bit hastily. I figured I'd take a chance on finding you so that I could ask one last time for you to consider letting Dr. Cuddy's daughter, Rachel, into your school."

She stared at him in disbelief and then her gaze shifted, noting his cane blocking the doorway, and her eyes returned to his, drolly staring him down until House begrudgingly removed his cane, whining, "You can't say I'm being selfish because Dr. Cuddy and I are no longer seeing one another. She finds me just as tiresome as you do. And anyway, I'm willing to make a donation if that will potentially…"

"How did you even find me?" she interrupted to ask, stepping outside before she turned to pull the door shut behind her. "I don't have my number listed for exactly this reason."

"Yes, but your husband does," House easily replied with a shrug.

"When we got married, I kept my name," she prompted, waiting for the rest of the story.

"It wasn't _that _difficult. I just had to call around and ask a few people associated with the school if there was a _Mr. _Fields and eventually I found someone who giggled like a third grader before squealing there wasn't but that wasn't to say there wasn't a husband who'd be a little irritated if I was trying to make a move on his wife. She even volunteered his name. You aren't listed but _he _is. That made things simpler," House finished.

She couldn't believe what she was hearing but recognized he was tenacious and was clearly not about to back down until all hope was lost. Eyes narrowing, she tilted her chin up at him and inquired calmly, "Are you looking to score points with her and earn her back?"

But House shook his head, glancing away before quietly mumbling, "No. I don't deserve her. But just because it's over for us doesn't mean I don't care about her." Returning his gaze to the principal, he finally added, "I made a mistake in trying to find a way to get her kid admitted into your school. She would never have asked me to do that. That was all my own doing to try and prove that I do care about her. So if in doing that, I've ruined whatever chances she had of getting in… Just name the price. If I have it, I'll pay it."

Ms. Fields watched him, an eyebrow raising before she crossed her arms over her chest, thinking contemplatively.

"Give me her number," she finally said. "You've intrigued me enough to want to meet her. I'm not making any promises though. I'm just agreeing to an interview."

House released a breath and nodded before digging in his pants pocket for a piece of paper before retrieving his pen from his shirt pocket, scribbling out Cuddy's home number, cell phone number, and work number, covering all the bases. Handing it to her, he pressed, "And your price?"

But she shook her head. "If you'll agree to leave me alone from this day forward, I'll do it just to wash my hands of you."

House smiled lopsidedly but nodded, making the Boy Scouts sign while pledging, "Scouts honor."

She laughed softly under her breath but then said somberly, "I do know what it is like to need someone."

House sobered but nodded slowly, meeting her gaze. "And I can accept not being in a personal relationship with her so long as she's still a part of my life," he quietly acknowledged.

Ms. Fields watched him as he turned then and limped away, mumbling a thank you which she barely heard before she tucked the number in her jean pocket for momentary safekeeping, turning to head back inside her house after glancing back to watch him climb into his car and pull away from the curb.

* * *

Cuddy had thought about calling first but then had quickly dismissed that idea, figuring her best bet was to just catch him at work without warning. She'd barely pulled into the parking lot when she saw his car ahead of her, entering his parking space in the seconds afterward, House obviously just arriving back at the hospital from… _somewhere. _She wondered breathlessly if he'd gone by her house and honestly hoped that he had - that he had made some attempt to contact her and work this out with her.

Parking, she quickly shut off her engine and grabbed her purse and the bag from her passenger seat before throwing her door open, not caring if it closed with force as she moved across the parking lot as fast as her heels would allow her to in order to catch him before he could enter the hospital.

"House!" she called out as she gained on him, her voice not half as desperate as she _felt_ in this moment.

He stiffened before her and then his shoulders dropped in resignation, his head falling forward as well, but he made no move to try and escape her, waiting rather reluctantly.

She came to a stop beside him, her hand coming up and wavering in the air as she pulled in a deep breath, uncertain about whether to make physical contact or not, her eyes trying to search his profile for some indication of how he was.

Cuddy opened her mouth to speak as she tremulously placed a hand on his arm but he expelled a ragged breath before his head lifted, his eyes meeting hers as he asked without emotion, "What are you doing here? It's the weekend. You should be at home with Rachel."

Cuddy swallowed hard, grappling for an appropriate response. "We need to talk," she countered, her head shaking in dismissal of what he'd indicated her priorities should be in the moment.

"There's nothing to talk about," he mumbled, his eyes leaving her face as his mouth firmed in a line. "We've both said enough. Go home. Enjoy your kid. Take a few days off if you need to. But forget talking. You don't have to waste your breath. You're already free of me."

And then almost jerkily moving away, he freed himself from her grasp and headed in the direction of the front door to PPTH's lobby once more.


	4. I Won't

Disclaimer: House, M.D. is 100% David Shore's possession.

* * *

_(Colbie Caillat's song)_

_Ch. 4 – I Won't_

"Did you just give me _permission _to take a few days off?" Cuddy couldn't help asking, totally thrown but in some perhaps not so irrational way, _offended_ by his off-the-cuff remark and its implications. And it _had _been an off-the-cuff remark Cuddy knew because there was _no way_ House was considering his words, choosing them wisely, at least not in saying _that _particular line, but instead was obviously rather flippantly tossing them out as he tried for a retreat.

House ground to a halt, his eyes squeezing shut, not doubting she thought he was being patronizing, even if it was more that seeing her right now was enough to have _him _thinking he wouldn't mind a few days off, if it meant not being at the hospital while she was. Thinking over what he'd so idiotically mumbled, he had to admit it was kind of ironic how he'd unintentionally managed to irritate her with his unintentional implication that _he_ was somehow _her _boss and was therefore in a position to suggest she take some time off. It was even more ridiculous to think she'd need it. But mostly, he found the irony in this being him trying to do _better. _Well, that and the reminder that shewas in fact the one with all the control, here at PPTH and… at home.

Gritting his teeth first, in the end he just mumbled, "I didn't mean it like that," before he continued on, not looking back at her.

"I know you didn't," Cuddy was quick to sympathetically accept, not her agreement with him but the… _kindness _in her tone causing House to pause once more, frowning at it, not liking how it made him feel, hackles rising somehow. He was used to her dismissing the idiotic things he said because she didn't want to waste her breath, nor the energy that it would take to argue with him but… _kindness?_

Releasing a breath, Cuddy moved towards him again, softly murmuring as she came to a stop once more but this time directly behind him, "I brought you some things from home since you've been stuck at the hospital all weekend." Even to her own ears she sounded shockingly contrite, something she'd seldom been in _any _aspect of their relationship over the years, not in words anyway.

_Stuck_ was overdoing it and both of them knew that but House had instantly dismissed that in favor of dwelling on her statement. Frowning, he rolled his eyes but then asked, "Wilson?" before answering himself with, "Of _course_ you and Wilson have _talked_."

Cuddy hesitated but there was really no way she could claim to have heard where to find him any other way. He'd just call her out on lying when some flawed minute detail that she thought nothing of but which he hinged everything on, appeared in her story and anyway… ever since _his_ lie, she'd taken precautions to guard herself from voicing one to him so as not to give him reason to consider her hypocritical. "He didn't call me. I called him. _Several _times. And we didn't really talk. Not at all. I just wanted to know where you were. He wouldn't tell me when I called yesterday but he gave in today," she finally acknowledged, trying to convey that she _had _been doing all she could in order to contact him, not that he shouldn't already know that by the calls and messages she'd left.

House turned around, his brow drawn, but his gaze went to the bag in her hand and his frown only deepened. If it wasn't bad enough to hear she'd brought him his stuff as if he was a little kid in need of someone taking care of him, it became worse when he realized he was 99.9% positive the bag she was holding of his _hadn't_ been at her house anytime recently, indicating that she wasn't just giving him the change of clothes he kept at her house but had actually put effort into this and this was… some sort of counter move on her part.

Cuddy bit her lip but held the bag out to him as she admitted, "I was at your apartment waiting for you to come home so that we could talk when he told me where I could find you. I just figured…"

He supposed this was an opportune time to ask for his key back but that hardly registered before he shook his head, taking the bag from her while being careful not to actually make physical contact with her, Cuddy biting her lip again, looking… oddly _scared_ as he'd not seen her in… a long time. _Hesitant. _Like she was afraid if she didn't get this right, she wouldn't get another chance. He couldn't even begin to imagine why that would be so he quickly dismissed his conclusions as seeing what he wanted to see, which wasn't exactly accurate either but…

While he'd have time to do better with her later, being a better… _friend_ than he'd ever been before, right now he just needed to get away. That meant he had to keep his mouth shut and not let any of the thoughts currently thundering through his head leave his mouth, engaging him in a conversation there really was no point in having.

"Thanks," he mumbled under his breath, making a last-ditch effort to show he was capable of being polite with her and of appreciating her before breaking eye contact, once more turning to go.

"House, _please,_" she instantly whimpered, her tone and that one uttered, rarely heard word once more turning his world upside down as he tried with little success to walk away. "Please talk to me. This isn't what I _want. _This isn't _at all _what I want. Please, if you need to yell at me or…"

House about-faced, his bewilderment obvious as he stared at her, wide-eyed and yet with his eyebrows askew. "Yell at you?" he echoed as if that was the farthest thing from his mind, clearly incredulous. "Why would I yell at you? It's not over because _you _did anything wrong."

Cuddy tossed her head about, her own disbelief etched across her features, but then she took a step closer to him to reduce the gap between them, at the same time grappling for the words she so desperately needed. Pushing aside her confusion, she instead focused on what she'd meant to tell him Friday night _before _he'd left, reasoning, "I didn't think asking you to not use my toothbrush or to take out the trash was all that big a deal…"

"Yeah, I got that when you said you were done with me," he sarcastically interjected, helpless to stop himself.

Cuddy's mouth tightened but then she forced herself to flatly respond, "You were being _beyond_ annoying . I _wasn't_ saying I was done with you though. I was simply saying that for me, for that moment, the conversation was _over_. I didn't want to talk about it then."

House glanced away but reluctantly met her eyes before stating without emotion, "It doesn't matter anymore Cuddy."

"Well, it _obviously _does," she countered decisively, folding her arms over her chest in irritation. "All I asked was for you to act like an _adult_. I just wanted you to help me out a little. As for the toothbrush, if I wanted to be with someone juvenile, I'd still be with Lucas."

The words had barely left her mouth when she realized he wouldn't take that the way she'd meant it. Her eyes fluttering shut, she grimaced but amended, "I just mean that you're acting like I asked too much of you."

"_No I'm not_," he sharply negated, having bristled at her previous statements but now firmly determining to leave them alone. "I toldyou that you were _right_. I acknowledged that I was wrong. I don't have a problem with you being upset with me for not complying with what you asked of me."

"Then what…?" Cuddy began as if disoriented, her arms uncrossing to flutter about.

"I have a problem with the fact that you deserve better. You do," he quietly tagged on. "And there's no point in my wasting _your_ time when I'll never _be _what you want and deserve."

"House, I want _you,_" she interjected gently, her expression softening as she looked up at him, taking a hesitant step in his direction.

House took a step back to counter her movement but then mumbled, "Maybe but… For how long, Cuddy? Up until what point? It doesn't really matter how you answer those questions. Eventually you'll realize that I'm not being unreasonable. Even if I was to say 'okay, let's try this again', one day you'd just find yourself looking back and wishing you'd just let me accept your decision for it to be over. Let's face it. I'm saving us both trouble by letting you just end it now."

"House…" Cuddy murmured, her head falling to the side with sadness.

His cell phone went off, announcing he had a text, and he dug in his pocket, pulling it out to read the message.

"Can we just go to my office and talk for a few minutes?" Cuddy asked resignedly.

He stared at her, knowing _exactly _why she wanted to take this to her office, but then looked away before exhaling wearily. "I've got a patient. The team's waiting for me."

"But can't they wait just a few minutes more?" she urged, her head tilting slightly to the side again, worrying her lip absently.

House just exhaled roughly, reaching up to rub a hand through his hair.

"We need to talk," she pressed.

"We've _been _talking," he countered pointedly, giving her a look.

"House, why can't we…?" Cuddy began softly.

"Because I don't _want _to," he finally declared in frustration, shaking his head adamantly. "I don't want to. It wasn't working. It was stupid of us to ever try a relationship on for size in the first place. It didn't make you _happy…"_ he continued as if happy was a curse word.

"I _was _happy," she quickly interrupted, moistening her lips when he struggled to continue down the path he'd been on. "I _am _happy. I am _happy _with you House. I am happier with you than I've ever been with _anyone. _If I'm failing to communicate that, it isn't because I'm _not _happy. Because I am. I'm just… struggling to figure out how a relationship between us works. And sometimes I really don't feel like we're communicating. Which is partly my fault, it seems. No, that's obvious. Because you appear to doubt that I love you but I _do _love you, House. I love you very much."

House completely overlooked all she said though, making Cuddy crazy when his only response was a muttered, "A relationship between us _doesn't work_. That's the problem."

"It was working _fine,_" she irritably bit out, frowning at him as she crossed her arms once more over her chest.

"And _fine _is really what you want? The overachiever in you doesn't have a problem with that?" House dryly retorted, an eyebrow quirked in cynicism.

Cuddy rolled her eyes but then expelled her breath before saying, "House, we're bothgoing to use a variety of… _descriptive words_ to describe our relationship. And how we describe it is always going to be changing; _hopefully _because our relationship will be continually getting better with time! I don't care _what _descriptive words either of us use; I don't care if things are fine or if you've got me tearing my hair out! I really don't _care! _I just… I just want _you_."

"You want an improved version of me," he corrected with a shake of his head, his mouth set in a grim line.

Cuddy sighed, her eyes closing briefly, but then mumbled, "Okay, maybe I deserved that but…"

"Exactly. You deserve that," he interrupted. "But I am who I am."

"That's _not _what I meant and you know it!" she gasped in disbelief, her mouth hanging partway open as her narrowed eyes stared him down.

"I've gotta go," House just mumbled in reply, his eyes having already dropped to the floor, shaking his head as he then turned and walked away.

"I'm not giving up," she quickly told him, thankful that the parking lot was momentarily deserted for she felt like she was definitely crossing over into the territory of making a fool of herself now. "I'm not going to lose you. It's taken over twenty years for me to finally _have _you. I _love _you. I'm not giving up. And that won't change."

House didn't reply, just shaking his head, and she watched him resignedly as he headed back into the hospital, her eyes closing when the lobby door shut behind him, a hand then coming up to rub over her face tiredly. This wasn't over. If only because she'd failed to say half of what she'd intended to.


	5. I Never Told You

Disclaimer: House, M.D. is 100% David Shore's possession.

* * *

_(Colbie Caillat's song)_

_Ch. 5 – I Never Told You_

"What's going on with you and Cuddy?" Taub nonchalantly inquired after House gave them their next set of instructions, House having just insulted him twice for suggestions that House ruled off as stupid, giving Taub enough reason in his own opinion to want to strike back, however he could. "You're suddenly playing things by the book but I'm beginning to think your lack of pushing the envelope has more to do with you not wanting to have a run-in with Cuddy than anything else. I alsohappened to be downstairs and overheard someone saying the two of you were out in the parking lot, having some sort of discussion. And it's not like we're oblivious to how you're spending all your time here. You're avoiding her this weekend. Otherwise you wouldn't be here so early in the morning. So…?"

House's mouth firmed into a line as he felt everyone's eyes upon his face but there was really no point in putting it off. Also, there was a good possibility they'd all clear out ASAP so as to avoid any ire he might express in having them know the answer to that. At least _that _was an upside. Unclenching his jaw while looking over the whiteboard with its list of symptoms and possible causes, he simply muttered, "She ended it. It's over. Don't want to talk. Feel free to concentrate on _doing your jobs_."

Not surprisingly, the hush that fell in that moment seemed to indicate everyone was willing to go with that one. Foreman was the first to push himself out of his chair and make his way out of the office but the rest weren't far behind. Five minutes later House was once more alone.

* * *

Quite unexpectedly House's patient had gone into respiratory arrest and he and his team had ended up staying until just after 10 p.m., the patient's oxygen level finally stabilizing enough for them to think they were safe for the present anyway. House had actually considered once more spending the night and accordingly had sent his team home some time before he even contemplated the fact that he too could really use a night in a decent bed. What ended up making the decision for him though was the reality that he wasn't about to make this "start work on time" _thing _a habit. He was going to make some changes but nothing _that _drastic. And he had all the more reason to clear out before morning rolled around since Cuddy would be back here tomorrow. Besides, the head nurse on duty had made it very clear if he even tried to go _near _his patient again before the man's lungs had a night to recuperate, she'd be phoning Cuddy directly. He figured respecting that so as _not _to have that consequence come into play meant he'd at least be unable to do _anything _until mid-morning the next day. Given the fact that Chase if no one else, would spread the news about him and Cuddy the next day if only to collect on bets, his not being around for the following morning was more than simply appealing. Decision made, he'd packed up and headed out the door.

Strangely, he'd been just about to turn onto his street when he realized what Monday was. Changing his course, he backtracked to take care of one more minor detail, pretending it more or less corrected another error he'd made.

* * *

By the time House entered his apartment it was a quarter to midnight. He threw his cane aside, hobbling through his apartment, heading for the kitchen to get something to drink.

His mind on other things, he didn't think about how Cuddy had admitted to being in his apartment earlier until his eyes fell upon various piles of his mail on the counter; subscriptions, bills, junk, all separated. He rolled his eyes but then caught sight of the Post-It note and hesitantly inclined his head to read its disclaimer.

"_H - Just so you know, this isn't me trying to CONTROL your life or CHANGE who you are by trying to make you more organized. That's not AT ALL what this is. This is just me, bored out of my mind as I wait for you. Note that I didn't even throw the trashy magazines away. That should say something, since as your GIRLFRIEND I of course WANT to. STILL YOURS, C"_

House frowned. It wasn't as if they never left each other notes. It just… Well, they never left each other notes with references to their relationship or anyhints of _sentiments. _He'd _maybe _admit to having left her one note, cryptically suggesting how much he wanted to… well, do _something _to her, closing it with a word that could _potentially _have been taken as tender, but… That had just been to appease her aftershe read the first part of his message. And she'd quickly made it clear he was _not _to leave notes for her of that sort because the last thing she wanted was one falling into Rachel's hands, to which he'd countered that as Rachel couldn't even read,it really made no difference, and to which he'd then been pointedly reprimanded because even if Rachel couldn't yet, someday she would, and even without that being true, _Marina _certainly could.

Now, seeing how she'd closed her note, even her reference to herself being his girlfriend, it didn't take a genius to see she'd been trying to get a message across. He just wasn't sure it was one he wanted to allow himself to absorb or even respond to. On top of that, as she was always very clear on the fact that she didn't in any way belong to him, her closing also just seemed… kinda contradictory, and not just because of their current situation.

Shrugging it off he turned to head for the fridge, pulling open the door to peer inside. His brow gathered at the brown paper bag inside that he could not remember having placed there in his otherwise mostly vacant fridge. Reaching for it he then opened it, sniffing it before looking inside. It didn't require thought to know that this was here because of Cuddy too. Reaching within he pulled out the only thing he could stand from the health-conscious café she liked to occasionally swing by on her way in to work in the morning. Then he stared at the Musli with the separate container of fresh fruit before he reached for the 100% natural orange juice. He opened the orange juice and took a sip before placing the Musli back in the fridge, not sure that he'd be eating it but… deciding not to throw it away just yet, his fridge awfully empty at present since he hardly spent time here anymore, and then tried to imagine whether she'd picked this up for him thinking he'd appreciate the gesture, for he did always eat it without complaint, well, after the first time anyhow; if she'd actually thought this was some kind of peace offering; perhaps a demonstration of her… _feelings_ for him or perhaps more accurate, demonstration of her concern regarding his well-being, already having gotten after him plenty about his dietary choices in recent weeks and his need to make more health-conscious decisions so he didn't die of a heart attack shortly; or… No, those were pretty much the only options, he decided. But if her goal had been the peace offering, in her shoes he would have gone with something a little more likely to _induce_ said heart attack.

Realizing what he was thinking about though he pushed away his thoughts, turning to head through his apartment, looking for any other signs of her having been there. Seeing none, except perhaps a book out of place and the thin layer of dust that had accumulated on his coffee table now absent, he headed for his bedroom, figuring he'd change into pajamas and watch TV until he mindlessly fell asleep,_ hopefully_ escaping any unwanted thoughts that would otherwise intrude upon him.

* * *

Monday

Cuddy kissed Rachel goodbye before heading out, darting back in before she could forget in order to grab the bag of garbage she'd left just inside the garage, exiting now via the garage instead. She waited until the garage door went up before she stepped outside, turning to throw it within her trash receptacle before she'd take that down to the curb. But she instantly frowned, the trash receptacle not being where it was supposed to be. Garbage bag in midair, confusion flooding her mind, she nevertheless turned slowly to look towards the curb only to find it already there, waiting for the garbage men to come collect it.

Cuddy made no attempt to move from where she stood though, blinking as she tried to sort out what had happened. _She _hadn't taken it down to the curb the night before. And it _certainly _hadn't been there all week. She was very vigilant when it came to having everything in its place and not leaving anything out that could carry the potential of annoying her neighbors. So… there had to be another explanation for this.

It wasn't until she was halfway to work though that she came up with a possibility for what that explanation could be. She only wished it made sense.

* * *

House came in shortly after noon but he'd only been in his office for fifteen minutes, long enough for his team to report to him via the intercom on his patient's stats from where they sat in the conference room, House having made no move to go join them just yet, when the door opened and House looked up to be confronted with Cuddy standing in his doorway, arms folded over her chest somewhat defensively.

He immediately looked elsewhere, it not mattering so much where his eyes went as long as they weren't on her.

"You're avoiding me," she instantly accused before she crossed the entryway, door closing behind her, approaching the other side of his desk. "You find a case and spend all weekend here so as not to have to deal with me off grounds. You walk away when I'm trying to talk to you in the parking lot. And then I come to work today and you decide if I'm going to be here, you're going to make yourself scarce, not showing until you have to so as to minimize the hours you might have to be around me…"

"I'm not avoiding you," he interrupted, the words a rumble under his breath, rolling his eyes but continuing to evade her gaze. "I'm working. That's _occasionally _something you pay me to do. You want to complain about that? Besides, when am I _ever _on time to work?"

"You are _so _avoiding me!" Cuddy argued, her eyes narrowing as she huffed, having spent the whole morning waiting for his arrival, unable to concentrate on her work because she was too focused on his absence, her need to talk with him augmenting with an unexpected phone call mid-morning, her frustration in this whole mess escalating as well.

"He's not," a voice suddenly and quite calmly attested, drawing both pairs of surprised eyes to the intercom which was quite obviously still on and then to the conference room where Chase sat, the only member of the team to still be around. He was making notes on the patient's file but he glanced their way before adding, "You broke up with him. He's not avoiding you. At least not _completely_. He just spent the weekend poring himself into a case to escape having to think about the state of his life. Been there, done that," he finished with a shrug.

"Who _asked _you?" House irritably muttered, his eyes boring a hole into Chase's head.

"No one but…" Chase's words ceased then not because he wisely shut up but because House reached out and turned the intercom system off.

"Stop telling people that I broke up with you!" Cuddy wasted no time scolding, her eyes flashing at him when he _did _accidentally forget not to make eye contact. "I didn't break up with you and I don't appreciate you telling everyone I did! We have _not_ broken up, House. We're just…"

House scoffed loudly and Cuddy fell silent, gritting her teeth until she realized what she was doing and ceased, simply maintaining her glare as she stared down at him.

Changing directions though, she evenly asked with a confused frown, "Did you put my trash by the curb this morning?"

"Nope," he said honestly and without hesitation, directing his gaze to his computer now, his fingers clicking over the keyboard as he focused on pulling up his e-mail.

"Did you put it there last night?" she thought to amend her previous question, moving even closer to his desk now while watching him, plucking at her skirt unconsciously.

A facial muscle ticked but that was all the answer she got. Sighing, she pulled out a chair in front of his desk and then sank into it before she resignedly admitted, "I have no idea what you're trying to do here."

"And I'm not the one trying to change that," he replied without emotion.

Cuddy's mouth pursed, her eyes narrowing once more, but then she coolly responded, "Well, unless you want me to spend all day sitting here with you or following you around until I get a decent answer, you might want to consider cluing me in."

House exhaled through his nose, his mouth flattening in a firm line. But before he could answer her in any way or challenge her to enjoy herself as she tagged after him like a puppy, Cuddy sighed, determining to be the one to make an effort at getting this conversation going, and murmured, "I got a call from Brye Park at ten this morning. They called to set up an interview with me and Rachel for next week. I never called to ask for an interview. I certainly would not expect one after Friday. But suddenly I get a call from a Ms. Fields, inviting me in. Clearly this is your doing."

"I had nothing to do with it," he dismissed instantly, shaking his head.

She rolled her eyes but a corner of her mouth rose all the same as she lightly commented, "Before you lie to me you should really make sure there's no chance that I'll find out the truth. She mentioned you stopping by Sunday."

House swallowed hard, no longer able to deny it but not about to own it or go into it either.

Cuddy wasted no time picking back up though with where she'd left off, trying to work it out as she verbalized everything. "Last week I was angry with you for using my toothbrush after I asked you not to and on Friday you went out and bought yourself another one, or stole it from the hospital I suppose, showing me that you've got your own so as not to use mine from here on out. I was upset with you for not taking out the garbage. Today it's mysteriously at the curb. I didn't even _mention_ Brye Park to you but you take it into your hands to find a way for me to get in, mess it up, and then even after we're _supposedly over_, track down the principal at her home in order to beg that she let Rachel in."

"I didn't beg," he instantly interrupted.

Cuddy looked at him sharply, her mouth pursing, but then demanded, "What exactly is your game plan here, House?" With heavy sarcasm she continued, "Are you going to come over and use my toilet so that afterwards I can see you've shut the lid? Are you going to go even further back and try and correct all the wrongs you've done me over the years? Because you know, that could take a while. Maybe we should start with the first error you made and sleep together. Then you could hang around in the aftermath to prove you're not going to run away again. Maybe we should really go all out and re-enroll at Michigan so you can undo getting kicked out and therein, the reason why you walked away the first time."

House stared at her the whole time she spoke, his lips tightening as she pushed onward, her clear irritation which underlined everything she said only fueling his own.

"I'd appreciate it if you bring whatever I've left at your place to work with you tomorrow," he calmly stated as he pushed his chair back, not bothering to pass her directly since he had the alternative of exiting through the conference room, glaring at Chase who looked up at him as he passed him.

Cuddy stared after House, her shocked eyes briefly meeting Chase's curious ones through the glass before she looked away quickly, nevertheless worrying her lip, House's parting shot in leaving… well, more overly polite request/instruction than parting shot, ringing in her ears.

This was not going the way she'd planned for it to.

* * *

"He wants to do what?" Cuddy asked wryly, rubbing a hand over her resigned expression after placing her pen on her desk, her gaze returning to Taub's face as he explained once more the drug treatment House had sent him to get permission for.

It would just figure he'd send someone else.

Getting to her feet, she interrupted Taub's tedious explanation. "Forget it. He can explain it to me himself."

"Sounds like fun," Taub drolly muttered under his breath as she passed him to open her door.

Cuddy froze, her jaw clenching. His whole team was irritating her today. Well, that wasn't quite true she supposed. But having them know _anything _made her frustration increase. She'd already pressed Chase before leaving House's office earlier to find out just who he'd told, wanting to limit this spreading if she could because she still hoped albeit despite herself at moments that they'd work this out. She'd been half afraid he'd told everyone so as to collect on a bet but he'd denied that flat out, then with chagrin admitting that he'd waged they'd break up and then get back together within the span of a week, but if they didn't get back together within that time frame, he'd _lose _money. He was apparently hoping to have it remain quiet as long as he could to improve his odds of _not _losing money, figuring even if it took longer than a week, no one in the know would be willing to confirm the break-up/back together dates. She'd resignedly let the subject drop, just grateful that _someone _expected their break-up, if _inevitable_, to not be a _permanent_ one. Somehow that had made her feel _better_, oddly enough. Chase had then prompted her to think beyond him though through stating she might want to tell Taub to keep his mouth closed, as he was having a "moment" where the fall-out of _any _relationship was one he publicized as if that would somehow help him save face in his personal failures of late.

Turning to Taub now, she eyed him fiercely, watching him as he drew up short so as not to run into her and then had the decency to look if not repentant, intimidated. "If I hear from _anyone _that word of my personal life has gotten out, you should know you're the one I'll come looking for."

"Me?" he protested indignantly.

But she didn't give him a chance to defend himself. "Foreman doesn't _care. _Masters finds House too intimidating and will keep her mouth shut…"

"But…" Taub tried to interject.

"_Chase _has too much to lose if he tells anyone. He's got too much money riding on this one. That leaves you," she concluded with a pointed look.

"But House was the…" he attempted.

Cuddy shook her head. "He might have said something to you four but he won't say anything to anyone else. And Wilson isn't going to be saying anything other than to me and House because he'll be wanting to work everything out between us. He's… _genetically engineered _to meddle. That leaves you. And if you…"

"I _won't_," Taub quickly expelled before she could continue, looking irritated though.

She stared at him a second longer before she gave him a curt nod and headed out the door ahead of him, her heels clicking in rapid-fire succession as she made her way to the stairs.

* * *

"Not _again,_" House griped as Cuddy stepped into his office, Taub following behind her.

Taub shot her a look, an eyebrow raised as he waited for her response to House's rudeness, now that they were apparently "over."

Sadness flickered only briefly in her eyes before she masked it, having no intention of giving Taub time to observe that, and straightened, then giving House a disapproving look. "Are you sure about this, House? There are more potential side effects than there seem to be benefits with this drug."

For a moment he actually appeared slightly repentant over his attitude when she'd come in, as mean as he sometimes was to her having tried to do better _especially _if anyone from his team was present. But he quickly dispelled it, quietly responding, "His O2 stats are in the toilet and nothing else is working. The drug is known to be effective. The side effects we can handle. If the drug works as it should, the benefits will far outweigh the costs. It'll free us up to figure out where the underlying problem stems from. None of the potential side effects are untreatable, nor the treatments any which are at risk of being canceled out by the meds we already have him on."

Cuddy sighed but she just didn't have it in her to fight him. Not on this. Not after the way her day seemed to be going. Nodding slowly, she turned and made her way to the door at the same time Taub slipped into the conference room to tell the team they'd gotten permission.

"Cuddy," House softly called before he could stop himself.

She hesitated and then glanced back over her shoulder at him, waiting.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, his mouth pursing as he then looked away.

She was surprised by the apology, though she didn't dare stretch it to refer to anything other than his attitude when she'd reappeared in his office. That wasn't to say she didn't want to dig deeper and feel him out. But… this was hardly the time and she knew that, even if she didn't like it. Nodding slowly she helplessly said, "Me too," leaving him to interpret that however he wanted.

* * *

Cuddy lay in bed that night, this time not even _attempting _to stay on her side, nor even in the middle, but instead wholly curled up in what was typically House's space, her head turned to the side as if searching for the scent of him in his pillow and the sheets. She didn't understand what her problem was. He made her absolutely… _crazy, _but… as logical as she usually was, as accepting as she'd been in the past over the few break-ups in her disastrous dating history, relationships that usually terminated before she could even identify them as _relationships _that _could _potentially therein warrant the fall-out being labeled a break-up_, _in what history there _was_…, she just couldn't manage to accept this as she would if it had been anyone else in House's place right now, telling her it was over and… asking for her to give them back their belongings. She missed opening her eyes to find him hovering over her, waiting for her to awaken so he could capture her lips with his hungry ones, a flash of blue before her in the second between opening her eyes and closing them again as their mouths merged leisurely and then more frantically. She missed waiting until she was sure he was asleep to move closer, to the point where she was partly sharing his pillow, his breathing deep and raspy against her hair when she finally drifted to sleep. But as much as she missed his presence, his touch… and man how she missed _his touch_, she missed his bickering with her and occasional bouts of bossiness too. She did.

She'd never… needed someone like this, Cuddy realized then. She _actually needed him. _And that was both… thrilling and absolutely terrifying, all at once. She wondered as she finally allowed her eyes to close if that was exactly how House had felt and if in… feeling like he was always waiting for her to end things, he'd felt half as desperate to hold on as she felt to get him back.


	6. When You Find Me

Disclaimer: House, M.D. is 100% David Shore's possession.

* * *

_(I'm pretty sure the next chapter is the last one. Oddly enough, at least in my own opinion, I'm thinking it will end up being M. I'm not sure what I think about that but... it kinda seems inevitable somehow. That's NOT to say I'm writing smut though.)_

_(Joshua Radin's song featuring Maria Taylor)_

_Ch. 6 – When You Find Me_

Tuesday

Cuddy sighed, glancing at the clock on her computer screen for what felt like the millionth time. She was really hoping this was going to work. She'd spent the time in between her first stop in House's office yesterday and her second, along with all evening the night before and all day today, trying to get work done while strategizing this thing with House out and reworking details when her plan seemed to run into a snag. Honestly, she didn't think she could afford too many more failures. Right now her plan depended on House not catching on, or at least, not growing too suspicious. Since she'd done her best to steer as far clear of him as she could following his apology and her "me too," Cuddy thought she had a good shot at keeping him at least _partly_ in the dark regarding her intentions. Oh, she fully expected him to be _suspicious, _but that was kind of a given. He was naturally suspicious. She just needed to get him to agree to come over. Anything after that she thought she could work with. She hadn't sought him out yet to return his things so she assumed he'd be swinging by,unless he put it off for another day, _really _wanting to avoid her. She supposed it just depended on how much he wanted to get this over with. Since she knew through a series of calls she'd made to keep tabs on his patient that he was currently in his office, tossing his ball about, trying to figure the case out, she figured she had a 50% chance of seeing him shortly as he'd lately gotten into the habit of coming to see her instead of Wilson in such moments, stretching out on her couch while he worked things over. As Wilson was currently meeting with someone she'd sent his way, Cuddy really did hope House would therein come _her_ way.

A half hour later she was sitting at her desk signing off on files when there was a knock at her door and she looked up to spot House waiting outside. She really was going to lose her mind she realized as she rolled her eyes at him for knocking rather than just barging in as was customary.

He raised an eyebrow, waiting, and she finally gestured for him to enter, though what she wanted to do in that moment was choke him senseless. Her pen stilling in mid-air she watched him as he took a few awkward steps inside her office, looking around rather than at her.

"Did you bring my stuff?" he finally asked and she wondered for a brief second if he really thought the casual way in which he voiced his question was the equivalent of how having him ask for his things the day before was supposed to have made her feel, as if it meant nothing, as if there was no way in hell his request had made her stomach toss with anxiety at the mere thought of them actually being at the point of returning each other's property.

"No," she casually replied nonetheless, returning her gaze to the file before her, pretending to read it before she signed off on it. "I didn't have time last night."

House frowned but then pressed, "Are you going to…?"

"If you want your stuff," she interrupted with slight frustration, glancing up at him but only briefly, "you're just going to have to come over and get it." She _hoped_ she was making this difficult, but she couldn't overplay her cards and have him read her either.

There was a moment of silence as she flipped to the next file and House processed her statement and the potential implications of that, most definitely analyzing her as well before he doubtfully began, "Are _you…?_"

Cuddy didn't let him get any farther than that though before she interrupted again, knowing what he was about to ask and opting to not allow him to finish so that she well, wouldn't have to lie to him _per se_. "I don't have time to track down your things House," she impatiently declared. "You know as well as I do that you have a habit of leaving them helter-skelter about my house. You know where you've left them. I don't. If you want them back you have two options. You can come and get them or you can wait until I have time to round them up. But if your attitude at work towards me continues, frankly, you'll be lucky if I don't toss them in the trash or donate them to spite you. You pick. Come collect them or risk never seeing them again. It's really up to you."

House narrowed his eyes as he studied her as best as he could but she just continued working, not risking eye contact. He didn't understand the sudden nonchalance or… anger on her part. In fact, after her behavior of the past few days it gave him due cause to turn dubious regarding what was motivating her right now, his brain already circling around possible explanations for why she'd suddenly become not _cavalier _per se but… disinterested in fighting him anymore. Although… he hadn't exactly been kind yesterday. And Cuddy didn't have a problem with being the one to walk away when upset with him but she _hated_ when he did it to her. He'd already done it several times in the last few days. That weighed heavily against him he couldn't help but conclude. Then again, there was a very good possibility this was a trap to corner him so that she could once more attempt to force him into a conversation he didn't want to have. But on the other hand, maybe she was really genuinely upset with him for how he'd acted towards her yesterday or how he'd told his team that they were done, not giving her any time to plan for his announcement as she hadn't wanted to… accept it right away.

Deciding to test her, he said, "I'll just head over there now then. Marina can let me in."

But Cuddy had already counted on him suggesting something along that line and she lifted her head to meet his gaze, her head slowly moving from side to side. "I'd rather Rachel not be there when you swing by," she solemnly said. "This is hard enough without prolonging things or upsetting her. If you want to come tonight and get it over with though, you can. Julia's going to take Rachel for the night since… I could really use some time alone," she concluded, her eyes returning to the desk, a frown forming on her lips.

House considered her words carefully, his brow creasing in concern, but then nodded reluctantly in agreement. He'd rope Wilson into going with as a safety precaution, he told himself, trying not to think about how Cuddy was doing in all this now that she'd… implied she needed time to herself, even without Rachel. "Seven?" he suggested without inflection.

"That's fine," she agreed casually, returning her attention to the file before her, clearly dismissing him as her pen once more scribbled over the form before her.

House watched her for a second longer before he silently turned and walked right back out of her office.

Cuddy continued working for several minutes until she was sure he was gone before she let the pen slip from her fingers and exhaled roughly. Reaching for her phone she hoped Julia would _for once _be there for her when she needed a favor.

* * *

"I need you to swing by Cuddy's with me tonight," House said without preamble upon bursting into Wilson's office without knocking.

Wilson looked up at him from where he sat at his desk, his mouth pursing as he contemplated his best friend. "Why?" he finally and rather skeptically asked.

"Because I need to get my things and since there's a slim chance that she's making me come get them in order to ensnare me, forcing me into a talk I don't see the point of having, I need a contingency plan for how I'm to avoid _that._"

"And _I'm_ your contingency plan?" Wilson wryly inquired, rolling his eyes.

"Yep," House replied simply.

Wilson rubbed a hand over his face, not wanting to get involved in this, having already stated yesterday when House showed up in his office that he wouldn't be giving _anyone _any more advice because the whole thing was ridiculous in his opinion.

"No," he negated flatly.

"No?" House repeated skeptically, raising an eyebrow at him.

"No," Wilson enforced, shaking his head. "I told you that I don't want to be involved. Besides, you guys _need _to… _Never mind_. I'm notgetting involved. You want to toss her aside when you're finally with her, that's your decision. But I'm not going to…"

"Okay, _maybe _I gave you the impression that you had a choice in this," House drolly and rather condescendingly muttered then. "But you don't. You _are_ going."

"And why would I do that?" Wilson queried, folding his arms over his chest after inclining his chair a bit farther back, staring at his best friend pointedly.

"Take your pick of reasons for why you're coming along," House coolly said. "I've got about ten ready just off the top of my head, the great majority of them starting with a threat that begins with 'I will make sure a rumor circulates through the ranks that you…' You can fill in the rest of it however you'd like. That you are pining over that desperate, severely overweight nurse down in Ped's, too intimidated by the thought that she'll turn you down to ask her out, suggesting that all she needs is to make her interest _extremely _obvious, without subtlety that might confuse your dim-witted male brain, and you'll be on that train. That you got so drunk at that gala a year ago you hit on Nurse Jeffrey and ended up back in an exam room with him. That you've been asking me questions about the marital status of that guy on the night shift with the anger problem's mom, hinting that you've wanted to do her ever since you walked into the shower room and saw that tattoo of her on his chest after his shower…"

House smiled evilly when Wilson's expression slowly changed from that of boredom to doubt to genuine nervousness, the last one doing the trick as he recalled how the guy had snapped at him unduly when he casually inquired about the tattoo, apparently staring too long at him first, because although no one would ever tell the guy, doing so being to take their own life in their hands, his mom _was_ truly hideous, at least, going by the tattoo…

"_Fine,_" Wilson mumbled, put out.

"We have to be there at 7," House then announced cheerfully, smirking rather gleefully before he headed out the door.

Wilson gritted his teeth, watching him as he made his exit. He supposed though that House's request could have been worse.

* * *

Cuddy hadn't had _time_ to change following work, which was kind of disappointing as she'd really hoped to change into something more… easy to _remove_, should opportunity present itself later on in the evening. But she'd been late getting home, her sister even later in arriving, and it was ten to seven before Julia, her kids, and Rachel with them were out the door, finally allowing Cuddy a moment to breathe just as her mind began to contemplate all the ways this night could go, anxiety kicking up a bit.

She'd fully expected House to be late but when her doorbell rang at exactly 7 p.m. she thought there were two options as to why he'd be prompt. It was like reading one of those children's adventure books where you got two options to choose from every couple pages and depending on what choice you made in where the story would go next, your next set of options would be revealed. Her next decision would be influenced by the answer for why he'd arrived on time. And it was either because he was determined to show up exactly on time, right to the minute or it was because…

Wilson had come along.

Cuddy opened the door wider to let them both in, pretending _not _to notice how long it took House to actually step back inside her house, even Wilson eyeing him curiously before he gave her an almost apologetic glance for turning up without advance notice. She closed the door behind them after greeting Wilson and watched as he wandered into her living room to wait for House before she focused her attention on House.

Waving in the direction of her bedroom, she indicated for him to get on with it and he broke eye contact, his mouth pursing, before he headed down the hall.

But he'd barely taken a few steps before she sweetly called, "Oh, and House?"

He paused and turned back at her, meeting her gaze, only for her to smile almost condescendingly before she smugly murmured, "If you need to use the bathroom, feel free."

His eyes narrowed, the corners of his mouth tightening, and she watched him turn and continue on his way, quite proud of herself because he really _was _kind of infuriating at times before her hands came up to begin unbuttoning her shirt just as House disappeared from view.

"You might want to get out of here Wilson," she announced under her breath without bothering to look at him where he was perusing her bookshelves absently, hands in his pockets.

He instantly looked in her direction and then shook his head wildly as he realized she was undressing, his eyes squeezing shut as a hand came up to cover his face so as not to see anything. "Geez, Cuddy…" he bit out in disbelief, understanding quickly what her plan was.

But she was quick to cut him off, stating evenly, "Don't you _dare _judge me for seducing him. He won't even hear me out. Since this body is one of the few things I have in my arsenal, at my disposal to use against him, that's actually almost always _effective, _I'm not above using it to get him to shut up in hopes he'll finally _listen. _He's driving me crazy. I'm so frustrated with him I want to… In any case," she cut her train of thought off and redirected, "if sex is what will do it for House, I'm not going to bother denying it will also be effective in allowing me to burn off steam. If we both come out of this satisfied, I have no problem with how that comes about."

"Cuddy, I don't think this is a good…" he tried, his head twisted away from her so as to make sure he didn't see anything of his boss that he shouldn't.

But she just sniffed quietly in amusement before glancing to make sure he wasn't looking, taking her shirt off and throwing it directly at him, knowing he'd bolt at that piece of evidence that she was 100% serious.

"Goodbye, Wilson," she added in a sing-song voice as she reached for the zipper to her skirt, amused when he didn't just visibly cringe at the sound of it lowering but shuddered noisily, awkwardly setting her shirt on the chair nearby as if it would bit him, Cuddy already walking away from him in the direction of her bedroom. Her smile grew when the front door opened a second later and when it closed just as quickly, her skirt fell to the floor, Cuddy only too thankful that Wilson wasn't one to slam doors as House wouldn't even be aware he was abandoning him.

She paused in her doorway to see what House was up to, her smile growing when his back was to her and she could tell he was a little exasperated already. She'd done her best to hide a few of his things so as to prolong his search. Stepping into the room she headed for him.

"Cuddy, I can't find my…" House began, hearing her come in and knowing it was her as her heels clicked over the floor. But he turned around to glance her way just as she arrived behind him and his words fell away as his jaw dropped, his eyes widening, the t-shirt he had in his hands falling to the floor as his eyes swept over her rather helplessly, House swallowing hard at what he saw.

Cuddy smiled, feeling all the sexier as she _always_ did by the way he was looking at her, his hunger for her obvious, reflecting in the depths of his baby blues. Reaching out, she placed her hand on his chest and gave him a slight shove, satisfaction washing over her when he fell back and onto the bed, his elbows catching him so that he wasn't flat on his back. She wasted no time crawling onto the bed after him, one knee settling over his hip before the other knee trapped him in, her chest right before him for his viewing pleasure.

"Do you want me House?" she asked seductively, her eyes flicking from his to his lips and then down past her breasts to the space between their lower halves, clearly checking for a physical reaction on his part as she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, running her tongue over it before her gaze returned to his, eyes looking up at him through lowered lashes.

He inhaled a ragged breath, that adequate indication for her to determine she was getting to him, but somehow he still had enoughcognitive function left to his disposal to manage to mumble unevenly, "Wilson?"

"Mmm," she moaned, a hand coming up to stroke lazily down his chest as they both watched her hand upon him, House moistening his lips in response. "He went home," she drew out slowly, her eyes returning to his. "Do you really think we need him here? I've never known you to want to share."

"I don't like to share," he thickly agreed, his eyes intently locked on her breasts where they were practically spilling out of her bra now due to the angle induced by how she hovered about him.

"That's good, House," she practically cooed, lowering herself onto him now so that he could feel the weight of her breasts against him, a harsh breath tearing from his lungs as her pelvis rubbed against his. "Because this is all yours, isn't it?" she continued, her head descending so that her breathy words were hot against his neck. "I'm yours, aren't I?" she pressed, her mouth descending to nip at the skin right below his earlobe.

And Cuddy didn't really understand what happened but suddenly he'd rolled them over, which she wouldn't have objected to _at all _if it hadn't happened at the same time that a harshly groaned, "_No,_" left his mouth.

He was breathing hard in his worked up state and even as she struggled to figure out what had just happened to bring things abruptly to an end, her legs tried to wrap around him so that he couldn't escape her. Unfortunately House was stronger than her and while it took a little effort on his part, he had no problem escaping her grasp, partly because she was too afraid to hurt his bad leg, which was entirely too likely with her high heels still on and the way he was trying to pull her calves about, to wrestle him with more force. However, the minute he was upright she was too, her arms surrounding him from behind and clasping before him, fingers entwining, her chest pressed to his back, locked about him so as to keep him from getting away.

She resignedly admitted this was why back-up plans were so vital.

"Cuddy, let me go," House grunted irritably, too afraid of hurting her to jerk about enough to throw her off.

"You want to leave? Fine. I'll even drive you home. But not until you explain to me…" she began determinedly only to be interrupted.

"I don't _need _a ride. Wilson and I came separately. He just followed me over," House mumbled in aggravation, trying to twist his arms enough to allow his hands to reach up and untangle hers.

Cuddy blinked at that derailment of her negotiation but it wasn't going to cause her to give up. "Fine, but in any case, I'm _not _letting you out of here until you tell me how you see our relationship working from here on out and _why _you're suddenly taking my garbage to the curb and pursuing principals to get Rachel into their schools and…"

"Fine," he huffed. "If I explain those _two _things, will you just shut up about this?"

Cuddy frowned, never liking it when he told her to shut up, but nodded her consent against his back.

"Let me go then," he muttered moodily.

"No," she quickly negated, shaking her head against him, her grip tightening slightly. "I can't trust you not to limp right out of here without telling me _anything_," she stated accusingly.

"Cuddy, I'm lucky I was able to stand upright, considering how your body has left me…" he drolly informed her until he realized what he was saying.

She smiled against his back but her grip eased a little. "You give me your word you won't bolt?" she pressed.

"Fine," he huffed again.

Cuddy reluctantly let go but then stepped around him so she could see him and he averted his gaze only to have it land on her skirt pooled in the hallway, his mouth firming briefly before he grunted out, "Put some clothes on."

She pouted in response but then glanced about, smiling contentedly when she spotted House's t-shirt his hands had abandoned minutes ago in favor of her body. Looked like he wouldn't be getting this back just yet.

Tugging it over her head before she stuck her arms in the appropriate holes, she could tell from the frown on his face that he wasn't happy with her, which was also indicated by his next words, House mumbling, "I _knew _this was a trick."

The corners of her mouth curved up but she didn't reply, reaching for a drawer nearby in order to remove a pair of silky pajama shorts, pulling them on after finally removing her heels, secretly pleased with the feel of House's eyes stealing glances at her as she more or less dressed.

"Satisfied?" she challenged when she looked up at him, an eyebrow quirked.

"Not nearly," he muttered before looking away.

"Well that's not because _I…_"

"Can we just get this over with?" he interrupted.

Cuddy frowned but then reluctantly nodded, worrying her lip as she looked up at him, hoping he'd give her a response she could somehow work with. "Why'd you take my trash to the curb? Why'd you go back to see Brye Park's principal?" she opted to open with.

House expelled a breath before grumpily frowning at her but then looked away before somewhat reluctantly admitting, "You don't think I care about you. You think _not _taking out your trash is evidence that I don't. As if taking it out is evidence that I _do. _That… irritates me."

"So you came over Sunday night to take my garbage to the curb, just to show that you do in fact care about me?" Cuddy asked dryly, her eyes searching his for confirmation.

"To me it was a stupid menial task that you could do just as well as I could, if not better, because you're anal about details, and _faster, _because you have two fully-functioning legs. To you it was something you decided to hinge all my feelings for you on. So fine, you can believe what you want but if doing it in the end, even if it's too late, makes you realize that you might have been wrong about the conclusions you came to, then at least that strike is no longer against me," he concluded quietly, not looking at her.

"If we're done, why does it matter if that strike is against you?" she had to ask.

House was silent, his mouth pursing, but then he opted to make it seem like he didn't know and hadn't really thought it out rather than admit he still wanted to get to a point of maybe deserving her. "I don't know," he vaguely dismissed.

Cuddy wanted to respond to that but she couldn't help satisfying her curiosity first. "And Brye Park?" she prompted.

House frowned but then snorted before glancing briefly up at her eyes, the contact not holding for more than a second, resignedly mumbling, "I screwed it up in the first place. Tracking her down was just… me trying to undo the mess _I'd _created so you wouldn't potentially have to."

Cuddy bit her lip as she stared up at him. Ever so softly she acknowledged, "I know you care about me House. Maybe I was too upset with you to allow myself to recognize that in the moment, wanting to hold onto my anger and tell you how I felt you were making me feel so that you'd consider it in the future but…"

"It really doesn't matter, Cuddy," House interrupted but without any of the force he'd previously said those words with, simply resigned, his tone quiet, his eyes back blinking at the floor.

"I'm just not sure what to do with you right now," she aimed to lightheartedly tease. "You don't usually back down and give me an out when I'm in the middle of telling you that you're right."

"If there's one thing this relationship has taught me," he said quietly then. "It's that all too often it doesn't _matter _if you're right, if being right costs you the only things that really matter anyway."

"House," she murmured, her hand coming up to alight upon his arm. "You haven't lost anything. You…"

"What was the other question?" he cut her off to probe, his eyes meeting hers, lips forming a grim line.

Cuddy sucked in a breath, biting her lip absently, but then reluctantly prompted, "Our relationship from here on out," giving him an answer so she'd at least appear to be cooperating.

His eyes flicked away from hers as he shrugged benignly. "I don't know," he mumbled. "Friends I guess."

"You said that was the last thing you ever wanted to be with me," she reminded pointedly, her lips curving into a pout afterwards all on their own.

Silence fell between them but finally he said with another shrug, "It's better than the alternative."

"Not if the alternative is making this relationship between us work," she countered gently.

"That's not going to happen," he wearily dismissed.

Cuddy looked down at her feet, feeling her eyes filling up with tears, feeling like she was either going to have to wait a long time for him to come around, chancing that he just wouldn't, or find a way of getting him to talk, which although working at present, was only happening as part of a deal that was technically now fulfilled on his end. Doing nothing to stop the tears from spilling, she murmured, "House, I could really use a friend tonight."

His eyes returned to her face having been caught off-guard by her admission and then he saw her tears and his gut clenched.

She reached up to brush aside her tears self-consciously when his gaze locked with hers but then bit her lip before attempting to joke despite failing miserably, "My boyfriend wants to end things with me."

House rolled his eyes but his brow furrowed as he struggled.

"If you really care about me," she had no problem weaseling, "You'll show that by sticking around for a while."

He grunted but even as manipulative as he knew that statement was meant to be, he did care about her and knew she'd worded it wisely, especially with those tears killing him, and he acquiesced with a jerk of his head. "But no sex. I'm _not _going to be your rebound," he quipped half-heartedly.

The corner of her mouth rose slightly but she just asked, "Want to order in and watch a movie?"

House knew that would mean he'd be here for at least another couple hours but… something inside of him wanted to be around her even if he couldn't let anything happen between them right now. "Fine," he mumbled, aiming to sound reconciled to being stuck here a while longer than he'd planned.

Cuddy reached out and squeezed his hand briefly before she walked off down the hallway only stopping to pick her skirt off the floor, on her way to order Chinese, hoping that would soften him up a little too.

* * *

Forty minutes later the food had arrived and they were camped out on the couch, watching a James Bond flick while eating, House from a carton and Cuddy from a plate.

House ate in silence, his gaze trained on the TV, but he felt her eyes upon him, sneaking glances every minute or so, and even if he didn't want to talk, he knew she was going to. Therefore, it came as no surprise when Cuddy set her plate down and started fidgeting before she finally murmured over the audio, "I don't really want to start over but maybe… we should. Couldn't we just… wipe the slate clean and try this again?"

"Let's just watch the video," he mumbled, not moving his eyes from the screen as he took another bite of his egg roll.

Cuddy pursed her lips but wearily muttered, "Fine. You want to be done. We're done. I accept that."

House's eyes widened but he said nothing, which had Cuddy pressing five minutes later, "What are you going to do now?"

"Nothing," he drolly replied, casting a glance her way as he set the container of Kung Pao chicken down on the table, frowning before his eyes returned to the television screen.

"Well then I _don't _accept it, House," Cuddy irritably stated, glaring at him.

He turned his head to look at her and then drolly mumbled, "One minute you do, the next you don't? Are you Schizophrenic now?"

Cuddy narrowed her eyes but tersely replied, "I told myself months ago that I wasn't going to let anything you did ruin things for us. Do you know how crazy it makes me to know you're allowing _my mistakes_ to ruin things? Frankly, you're pissing me off, House! I don't think I'm asking too much of you in expecting you to be just as committed to not letting me screw up this relationship as I am to not letting you screw it up!"

"You're bouncing all over the place tonight," House accused quietly, his brow drawing together as he focused his gaze on her.

"I'm sick," she defended whiningly.

House's eyes widened in skepticism. "_That's _the excuse you're going to go with?" he asked her dubiously. "Aunt Flo is in town?"

Her mouth firmed as she narrowed her eyes at him but then Cuddy declared, "I'm _not _PMSing and I don't have my period, House. That's not what I said. I'm sick. I _am. _I don't know what's wrong with me but _something's _wrong. I'll… go to the doctor or something, as soon as I have time."

"What's wrong with you?" he asked concernedly after staring at her a full minute, his eyes tracing over her. "Tell me. I'm here and I happen to be a _doctor_. I'll be yours right now, no appointment necessary. I won't even bill your insurance company."

"House, if you want to play doctor in the bedroom, I'm all for it but… I've learned from what we went through with my mother. Whatever's going on with me, it's best that you not get involved. Remain objective. You're too close. If… this turns into something serious, as much as I trust you with my life, I'm going to need you to be there for me… As my… friend," she disappointedly finished, not liking it at all.

In that moment, House didn't like it either. "If something's going on Cuddy, you need to go get checked out. Even if you don't want to talk to me about it, you can't…"

"House," she interrupted defensively. "I don't have _time _to get sick right now. I don't even have time to go to the _doctor _and I practically live in a hospital. I've got too much on my plate. I'm already dealing with _too much_."

"You do understand that people don't get sick just when they can conveniently fit it into their schedule," he retorted irritably, not liking where this was going.

Cuddy reached up behind her to take his hand where he'd propped it after setting aside his Chinese food, bringing it down to fold around her so his hand rested on her waist before she mumbled, "Relax. I can't even list off symptoms yet. I just… know something's not right. As soon as I have time to figure out exactly what those symptoms are, I'll make an appointment."

House heaved out a breath, shaking his head, but it wasn't like he could _force her. _Though he _could _probably _drug her_. That was certainly worth considering. Not bothering to move his hand from where she'd placed it, he absently stroked her side, his thoughts working through what could be wrong with her, which was frankly, pretty much _anything _as she hadn't told him whyshe thought she was sick.

"Cuddy, if something doesn't seem right, it probably isn't. I'm not going to accuse you of being a hypochondriac. I believe you. And you take great care of yourself. You know your body better than anyone," he added gruffly, wanting her to clue him in.

The corner of her mouth curled up at his words but then she teasingly muttered, "You thought my _mother _was a hypochondriac. Sure you don't think it runs in the family?"

"Well, I _know _you're susceptible to mass hysteria but…"

"That was _one _time," she bit out, turning to glare at him.

House raised an eyebrow, his hand stilling on her side. "You know what pisses _me _off?" he asked seriously, doing a 180, Cuddy leaning back slightly as she stared up at him, frowning at his sudden display of temper. "Where do you get off saying I '_may' _love you?"

Her mouth dropped open as she grappled to respond but House didn't give her a chance to. "There are plenty of things you can dismiss as my being selfish Cuddy but you thinking you can accuse me of _maybe _loving younot long after the whole ordeal with your mother…? I knew better than to sign up as her doctor. Even when I did it I only did it for you. When she kicked me off the case, we should have _both _accepted that. But _you _didn't so I _couldn't. _You think I didn't have everything to lose? You want to tell me my staying on the case _was _somehow selfish? Let me tell you right now, I did not stay on so as to avoid losing a tally mark on the Me vs. Dead Patient scoreboard."

"You _saved _her life, House. You're still mad at me because I…?" Cuddy began in surprise.

"No," he negated flatly. "I'm not. But you questioning my love for you after that sure ticks me off."

"I… I'm _sorry,_" she managed to say, genuinely looking contrite. "I don't doubt that you love me House. I was just upset and didn't think about it. I didn't think you'd take it…"

"You never even thanked me for saving her life," House drolly mumbled, his jaw clenching as he stared at the TV screen.

Cuddy swallowed, her eyes widening since House had never indicated he would have any appreciation at all for a thank you. "Maybe not verbally…" she hedged hesitantly. "But I didn't think you'd appreciate one so I kinda thought the sex in the days that followed communicated the same thing."

House scoffed but muttered, "Like we wouldn't have been having sex anyway."

Cuddy's shoulders fell as she pondered this whole sudden revelation but then she turned herself more towards him, her hand rising to rest upon his scruffy cheek as she tilted his face down to make eye contact with him. "_Thank you_," she enunciated, "for saving my mother's life. Although… you'll probably live to regret it. She can be awful bitchy at times," she concluded, trying to bite back a smile.

"Like someone else I know," he quipped, a smirk alighting on his face, Cuddy instantly scowling at him, dropping her hand from his face before she turned to plop back into the couch.

"You never said anything about the breakfast I left in your fridge this weekend," she pouted all of a sudden.

House stole a glance at her before returning his attention to the TV. "You're looking for credit for what you've done long after the fact?" he dryly asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Isn't that what you just did?" she retorted.

"No," he slowly drew out. "That's not at all what I just did."

Cuddy exhaled through her nose but let it go. "Well, it would be nice to just have you recognize that I've been _trying. _It'd be nice to know you even _notice,_" she mumbled irritably.

"I noticed," he wryly confirmed. "But if you were trying to score points, you should have gone with something off the McDonalds breakfast menu."

Cuddy's head turned to look at him, her brow creasing as her eyes swept over his face. "But you like the Musli," she countered.

House rolled his eyes. "It's the only thing on the menu at that place that _doesn't _taste like sawdust."

"They have a _great _menu," she huffed breathily, giving him an incredulous expression, her mouth remaining partway open afterwards. "It's healthy stuff but not _tasteless._"

"I didn't say their crap was tasteless," he argued. "I said it all tastes like sawdust. Maybe your mommy made sure you never strayed from Home Economics and other girly stuff but if you'd ever entered a workshop or built something out of wood, you'd know that _sawdust_ has a _taste,_" he smartly informed.

Cuddy's head moved about moodily, her lips pressing against each other, but then she returned her gaze to the television, reclining into his side a little more. "I don't know why you can't _consider _the fact that I'm trying to look out for you," she bemoaned.

"By _controlling _what I eat," he retorted, an eyebrow quirking.

Cuddy worried her lip, not liking the implication he was putting to it. Defensively and yet rather reluctantly she admitted, "I just don't want to lose you. And I've been close plenty of times. I love you. I might annoy you by… trying to take care of you but… My intentions are good, House."

He didn't respond, freezing beside her, her words penetrating through his sometimes overly-thick skull.

Still biting her lip she took his silence as a sign that he was at least listening to her and then murmured, "You think you're the only person in this relationship who needs the other but that's not true. And if you think that you telling me you're done with me didn't… crush me, then you don't know _anything_. If you think I haven't spent half of the time I've found myself alone the last few days… crying, then you really _don't _understand how much I love you."

House swallowed hard. Cuddy very rarely, if ever, cried in front of him. Truly, off the top of his head, the only two times he could remember her crying, discounting the tears in her eyes earlier, was when she'd lost that baby she'd planned to adopt and when he'd humiliated her at PPTH with his announcement from the balcony. Otherwise, while he… _knew _he'd made her cry, he'd never been around to witness it. Even in their relationship, the minute she was close to tears about _anything, _she retreated. And he always allowed her to. He… couldn't handle it. It honestly _terrified _him. Partly because he feared how he'd react and what he'd say in an attempt to make it all end. Now she'd given him an image that… built upon the brief tears of this evening and which was one that he just wasn't sure what to do with. And that made him beyond uncomfortable.

"I'm not trying to change you," she picked back up. "I really do love you as you are, House. I accept you. But… there are _behaviors _I'm trying to get you to adjust because… I know _myself. _I know what I won't be able to bend on and… what's going to cause _me_ to screw up in this relationship and do something I'll regret. So yeah, I indirectly move to constrain you in some way so as not to wind up in a position that tests my limits and… yes, I know where to attack your defenses so you're more likely to come around but…" Taking a deep breath she reminded, "When we decided to make a go of this, I told you that you make me better and that hopefully I make you better too. _Make me better, House. _Don't give up on me. I'm capable of change. And I might be equally hardheaded but I'm not unwilling to compromise if you'd actually talk to me and make a good argument."

House stared at her, his brow gathered as he processed what she said.

Cuddy waited a moment but got up then, heading for the hallway, and House thought nothing of it, figuring she just needed to go to the bathroom or something, until she hit the light switch behind her, the glow of the TV the only reason he could still see her as she reached down in the darkness of the hall and tugged his t-shirt up and over her head, giving him a smile from over her shoulder as she flung it in his direction. "This _is _an invitation to come play doctor," she teasingly murmured before disappearing down the hallway in the direction of her bedroom.

The indication was obvious. And he wanted to follow her. He _really_ did. But… instead he got up and turned off her TV, grabbing their garbage though he left her plate and their glasses on the table, and then made his way to the door, casting a glance down the hallway in the direction she'd gone before he opened the door and went out into the night, knowing he needed more time to think about this.

Cuddy stood in her bedroom, having been waiting for him to make a decision. The front door closing told her what he'd decided.

Pouting, she contemplated that move on his part, absently glancing down at her bra-clad chest, wondering what it was about this bra that seemingly didn't do _enough _to reel him in and shut his brain right down.

"Hmm," she thoughtfully groused when her eyes lifted to stare at her bed, the cover askew from how they'd landed on it earlier.

Turning, she headed back down the hallway to lock the front door before retrieving the dishes from her living room to wash them in the sink, smiling at how he'd taken the garbage with him and left his t-shirt even if she knew she'd spend the rest of the night alone, probably sprawled out across his side of the bed again, staring at the ceiling while she contemplated that evening and subsequently, her next move if he wasn't to make one.


	7. You Got What I Need

Disclaimer: House, M.D. is 100% David Shore's possession.

* * *

_(Thanks guys for reading and for your reviews! I really appreciate the feedback/positive reinforcement. :) __Hope you enjoy this last chapter! Now I suppose I should get back to ATEOHR! :) __)_

_(Joshua Radin's song)_

_Ch. 7 – You Got What I Need_

Wednesday

Cuddy walked into PPTH the next morning, stopping to talk with the front desk before making her way back to her office, her current assistant falling into step beside her as she went over the day ahead.

"House's patient?" Cuddy inquired when they'd covered the bases, now inside her office, her purse placed in succession where it would be close at hand as she pulled out her chair to have a seat.

"Top of the pile," her PA replied with a gesture. "Guess he came in last night just after midnight, having figured it out. He switched treatments and hung around for a few hours to make sure his patient was alright before heading back out but the patient is stable and might even be out of here by the end of the week. There was a Post-It on the file indicating he'd be taking the next couple days off, along with his team."

Cuddy glanced down to spot the Post It and nodded, not all that surprised to hear he'd run back in the night before. She certainly wasn't surprised he'd figured things out. He always did; personal life aside.

"I'll let you know when your 9 o'clock gets in," her PA continued, waiting for another nod to indicate she was free to slip out before she did so.

Cuddy glanced up to watch the door close before she got comfortable, shifting piles around according to how she wanted to tackle them before reaching for House's patient file first and foremost. Settling it on the desk before her she smiled, knowing that she probably wouldn't be able to figure out what thought had triggered his latest revelation but still enjoying the challenge and the opportunity to see what process he'd gone through since the last time she'd really gotten an update from him. But her hand had hardly stretched out when her eyes focused on the Post-It note. She couldn't help thinking about the note she'd left him this last weekend. She suddenly wished he'd returned the gesture, at least communicating _something _personal.

Pulling it off with resignation to the fact that he hadn't, she shifted her body to throw it in the trash. And just as she did she read what he'd scribbled on the back.

_Friday night?_

Her lips curling up slowly into a smile, Cuddy bit her lip, tucking the Post-It into her day planner the next second. His message was short and to the point but… it was better than nothing. Still, if he thought she was waiting until Friday night, House had another thing coming.

* * *

"What are _you _doing in?" Cuddy asked in surprise when Chase stepped into her office later that afternoon, hovering uncertainly in the doorway.

He looked almost… _apologetic_, causing her to immediately question what he was up to, her doubts increasing as he tipped his head down and rifled his own hair. "House said we're in the clear until next Monday, unless a case comes in this weekend, but…"

"Just say what you've come to say," she finally prompted in resignation, straightening in her chair to stare pointedly at him while her arms crossed over her chest.

He made a face but bobbed his head and turned so as to shut the door behind him before he approached her desk and somewhat anxiously asked, "Have you and House fixed things between you yet? It's getting close to a week and…"

Cuddy's eyes closed, rolling back into her head as she cringed at his reason for being here, her fingers clenching. "You have _got _to stop making bets on my personal life, Dr. Chase," she muttered warningly.

"_Okay,_" he whined. "_But…_"

"No buts!" she interrupted, her wide eyes looking pointedly at him.

"But can't you just tell me if you've… _fixed things?" _he pressed.

Cuddy expelled a breath but then dismissively said, "Not yet."

"_Would you then?_" Chase impatiently pushed, her intimidation apparently only going so far.

Cuddy looked away but then a slow, mischievous smile came over her lips. Directing her gaze back to him, she asked slyly, "How much money are we talking about? What's my cut if I ensure we're back together before the week runs out?"

Chase smiled proudly as if he'd corrupted her somehow, rather than what was more probable, that of House having done so, also impressed with her suggestion that she could be bought, Cuddy usually appearing _above _that as well. Reaching for his cell phone he started running numbers on the calculator feature so he could give her an estimate.

* * *

Thursday

Cuddy had thought about going to House's the night before but she really needed to _and_ _wanted to _spend some time with Rachel after having sent her off with her sister the day before. She couldn't imagine being stuck with her sister and her kids had been any better than being at home and probably, had been _worse_. Waiting only until Marina arrived Thursday morning, she kissed Rachel goodbye and then headed out, but instead of going to work she headed for House's, having already called in to instruct her PA to clear her morning for her, promising to be in after work.

Now, standing before House's apartment door she smiled coyly to herself before inserting the key he'd never asked her to return. She hadn't yet responded to his message, partly hoping he'd make contact so as to get an answer, perhaps even swinging by, but since he hadn't…

Walking within she quietly shut the door behind her and then set aside her purse before removing her heels so as to not reveal her presence unduly. Spotting his keys on the coffee table, she smiled and then turned back to her purse to dig out her house key which he'd returned the Friday before, Cuddy now returning it to his ring before placing the keys back on the coffee table.

She thought briefly of detouring into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee as he was most likely asleep and she'd shortly be waking him up. But… she _knew _how she wanted to wake him and it _didn't _involve the beep of his coffee machine as she turned it on or the aroma of coffee swirling in the air. Turning in decision, she headed silently down the hallway, smiling affectionately when the sound of him snoring came to her ears, filtering through the half-closed door to his bedroom.

* * *

House's bed moved slightly with the addition of another body sinking into it beside his hip and his snoring ceased abruptly as he startled and then blinked sleepily before he saw Cuddy beside him, leaning over him, one warm hand finding his bare shoulder, her eyes already half-closed with desire as she stared down at him, sucking on her bottom lip, her other hand already tremulously descending to rub affectedly over his naked chest while a lock of hair came undone and fell in front of her face. He smiled, this being the best dream he'd had in what felt like a long time, and reached for her, his hand tucking back her hair before it cupped her jaw and caused her eyes to flutter closed as she almost moaned at his simple touch. He instantly pulled her down to him, his head rising off the pillow to meet her lips halfway.

For once Cuddy didn't hesitate to kiss him, not caring if he did have morning breath, not caring about _anything_, other than her need for him raging to the surface, a week and an emotional one with upheaval between them having made this physical separation between them way too long. She moaned against his mouth, parting her lips the second he silently asked her to and when his hands moved to busy themselves with the buttons on her shirt she changed her position, crouching beside the bed so she could continue to kiss him but have the freedom and space to remove her underwear so there'd be one less barrier between them. Then shoving her skirt up around her hips she felt around for the top of the blanket so she could push it off him before she carefully climbed back onto the bed, breaking their sensual kiss only long enough to straddle him properly.

House used an arm to shove his back off the bed while supporting his weight with it, catching her lips again before she could get too far away from him, his other hand hastily shoving her shirt off her shoulders before it fell to push her bra up and out of his way, not bothering to unclasp it.

As his hands cupped her the way she'd been wanting them to for what felt like forever since the last time they'd been like this, Cuddy's head fell back, eyes closing as she bit her lip, preparing herself for this going much faster than they'd normally take it, not that she objected, the both of them so ready that there was no way it wouldn't progress rapidly.

* * *

Cuddy collapsed on House's chest, breathing hard and laughing softly but _trying_ to pull herself together since she knew that House was way too tense where he lay beneath her for someone who'd just had sex. As she worked to breathe more normally so that she could actually speak, House not appearing to be doing any better at getting his breath back, Cuddy tried to work through what could be bothering him. It _obviously _wasn't his thigh. But she didn't really want to think it was the sex either.

Finally propping herself up, she made no move to climb off him despite feeling ridiculous in only her crumpled skirt, having taken off her bra herself somewhere along the way, now just moving her eyes to his face so that she could study him even as House looked away.

"Are you mad that we just had sex?" she asked him straightforwardly, not bothering to try and beat around the bush right now.

He expelled a breath, his head moving around a little, before he glanced at her, making eye contact and then gruffly mumbling, "I didn't think it was _real. _I thought it… was a dream."

Cuddy's eyes widened in surprise as she contemplated him concernedly. "So you feel like I just took advan…" she began regretfully.

But he shook his head, looking away as he frowned. "I was the one to kiss you. I was the one to start removing your clothes. I moved my own out of the way. I guided you…"

His words fell away and Cuddy's brow drew as she worked through it, knowing exactly when he'd become aware it _wasn't _a dream now that she knew he'd been under that assumption because of how he'd frozen and she'd instantly taken over, the both of them so close that her orgasm immediately after had triggered his own, whether or not he'd been confused and floundering mentally at that moment. Pursing her lips she tried to think of what to say.

"Sorry," she finally mumbled, worrying her bottom lip as she stared down at him.

"You don't normally talk when we're having sex but when the tears started, I knew I wasn't just dreaming," he admitted resignedly.

Her eyes scrunched closed as she dropped her head back, trying to recall what she'd said. Thankfully there hadn't been _that _many tears, just one or two before she'd hurriedly wiped them away, a bit overwhelmed by _everything _for a moment there, but she could understand why he'd been thrown by their appearance. She remembered confessing that she needed him, that she loved him, that she didn't want to ever have to live through a week like this one again – a week without him… Did he think she said it because of what they'd been doing? Had she screwed up by letting those declarations slip? Was it better that he knew it wasn't all a dream _before_ or would it have been better to find that out _after? _Did it make any difference?

Cuddy sighed heavily, not knowing what to say or do now. "Do you want me to go?" she asked finally.

But House shook his head, reaching up to rub a hand over his face in the next second. "Just give me a second," he mumbled.

She made to get off him but a hand came down upon her thigh to tell her she could stay where she was, his fingers brushing against the edge of her skirt where it had fallen back down to give her some measure of decorum. Cuddy couldn't help but smile at that. Whatever people thought of House, the truth was that he didn't like physical contact to be broken immediately after sex. One way or another he always managed to make sure his skin was against hers in the aftermath. If he didn't choose to push her away now, that was… a _really _good sign.

She waited, watching his face, her hand coming up to stroke his chest absently. "I didn't say anything I didn't mean," she thought to murmur, just so he'd know.

"I know," he acknowledged, sucking in another breath before his eyes went down to her hand as her own eyes fell to it as well, a smile curving the corners of her mouth up at how she was tracing circles on him.

"It just so happens that I _am _available to go out tomorrow night," Cuddy spoke up then, her eyes meeting his as she attempted and failed to hide a smile.

"It was an invitation to begin negotiations, not a date," House drolly expressed, his eyes rolling.

Cuddy looked at him in surprise. _Negotiations? _This was going to be… interesting.

All the same she brushed the thought aside momentarily. "No, it _was_ a date," she argued playfully. "You love going on dates with me. You try to dismiss it as a surefire way to guarantee I'll 'put out,' but I know it's because you like holding my hand in public."

House rolled his eyes. "It _wasn't _a date. I just…"

"_Okay," _she conceded. "It was a date to, yes, perhaps do some… _negotiating_, apparently, but… since you _know_ the night would have ended with sex and you asked me about Friday night in _advance_, it's still a date in my book," Cuddy countered pointedly, folding her arms over her chest as if to dare him to keep arguing. "Besides, that's usually _my _strategy; business first, pleasure after. Are you really going to complain if I reversed things and gave you something to... quench your thirst a little _before _forcing you into a conversation you've been fighting me to _not _have all week long? I'm here. You can talk to me now. You can talk to me on Friday night as well. Go for it though. Let your _negotiations_ commence."

"You took away my bartering chip," he complained. "The sex has been had."

"I thought you were accusing _me_ of having sex being _my _bartering chip?" Cuddy contradicted doubtfully, not yet digging into exactly what he needed to barter for anyway, assuming he'd take them there in time.

"It is," he agreed flat out. "Just look at Tuesday night and how you once more tried to use sex against me. But since you made no secret the other night that sex is something _you _very much want to have with me…"

"Oh for Pete's sake, House," Cuddy interrupted, shaking her head at him. "It's not like you've _satiated_ me. That was rushed; almost frantic. I'm still here in your bed, waiting for you to get on with whatever else you need to say or _negotiate_. And I'd really like it right now if you could _hurry up_ and get through the negotiations leading up to us reestablishing the fact that we're together so that we can well… get to the make-up sex. Just so you know your time constraints, I only took the morning off; I don't have all day. Though I _will negotiate _the night ahead of us if your libido is still up to it by the time I leave here to go to work."

"_So impatient_," he mumbled with a shake of his head, ignoring her concealed implication that his libido might _not _be up to it, his hands framing the outside of her thighs, palms sliding up and down, back and forth a few inches.

"Tell me what you need me to compromise on," she pointedly instructed, determining that was what it would come down to, not moving from where she perched on his chest even if his touch right now was probably as distracting for her as her partial nakedness was for him.

His hands stilled but remained against her skin and she focused her attention on his face, watching as he thought, her arms uncrossing a second later so that her hands could cover his.

"I want to be able to eat ice cream in your bed," he said after much thought.

Cuddy's brow gathered immediately at his odd choice of things he could ask her to compromise on, having expected something more… important in the scheme of things. She would have laughed at the ridiculousness of his first move on the imaginary checkerboard between them, had she not been so confounded by him. All the same she quickly frowned, her nose scrunching as she actually allowed herself to think what he was asking her for.

"_Without_ you nagging me or giving me dirty looks," he quickly tagged on, his chin tucking in to stare at her as if disgruntled with her reaction already.

"But if you drip the sheets will get sticky and then _I'll _have to change them because we both know that won't bother _you_ in the least, but it most definitely will me," she whined half-heartedly in protest.

House rolled his eyes before pursing his mouth, giving her a droll look before muttering, "Cuddy, if I'm eating ice cream, I really don't think it matters _where _I'm eating it. If I'm not standing up and drip it's more than likely going to drip onto _me. Not _your sheets," he emphasized.

Cuddy sighed but no one had to tell her for her to know on the Richter scale of natural disasters, eating ice cream in bed and dripping it on the sheets wasn't worth what she gained from having him in her bed in the first place. It certainly wasn't anything she was willing to risk losing him over. And since ice cream wasn't that healthy, she kind of figured allowing ice cream of all things scored her double points, not that she'd ever forbidden him ice cream or anything like that.

"And if it drips on _me," _he slyly suggested, "You can always just… lick it off."

The corner of her mouth rose a little but House was paying more attention to her eyes as they dropped to his chest, his focus then wandering more to her mouth when her tongue came out to swipe over her bottom lip, enticing them both.

He smiled at her reaction but then waited until she finally re-established eye contact, suddenly turning suspicious again before she inquired, "And that's _all _you want me to compromise on? I mean, out of _anything _you could have, _ice cream _is what you want?"

"Ice cream while I'm in your bed," he corrected carefully before quipping, "But if you want to bring it to me in nothing but a waitress's apron, I'd be up for that. I might even concede a tight little shirt with lots of cleavage spilling out, so long as it's easy to remove."

Cuddy rolled her eyes but she could see that his facetiousness didn't cover the truth that ice cream wasn't_ all_ he wanted and she raised an eyebrow, watching him, waiting for his next request.

House turned serious but then admitted, "I also want you to promise to not get mad when I work you up enough for you to become vocal."

Cuddy didn't have to ask him to clarify, already knowing just what he was talking about. And by vocal he _wasn't _referring to wanting her to talk while they were in bed together; well, not that _per se_.

"House," she immediately began, reasoning with him. "Rachel isn't that far away. You know when we're here and it's just the two of us I don't care. I don't even care if we wake the neighbors. But I don't want to risk… waking _Rachel_ up to _that. _And I also don't want her to walk in on us in the middle of…"

House lowered his head to give her a pointed look. "That's what locks are for," he argued.

"But the walls aren't _soundproof,_" she countered, narrowing her eyes as she looked down at him. "Why can't that just apply when we're here and _without _Rachel?"

House ignored her counteroffer which wasn't even a proper counteroffer, him not gaining anything from it, the hand that had previously slipped to stroke the inside of her knee now pushing on it as if to tell her to get off. "Well, then we don't have anything to discuss, do we?" he stated solemnly. "If you can't compromise, then…"

"_House_, you make it seem like I'm being unreasonable in this," she objected huffily.

"Soundproof your walls! Or buy a house that has Rachel at one end of it and us at the other! I don't care! But I want to be able to _hear _just how I'm affecting you, every step of the way. It's good for my ego. And it's _very _good for you as your orgasm then is…"

"When things get to the point of being… _vocal_," she interrupted and resignedly admitted, color already flooding her chest, neck, and cheeks at his words, a wave of desire washing once more over her at his implications, "When I lose... control like that, it isn't _just _us who increase in volume but… the _headboard _starts to hit against the wall, House. That's bound to wake her up one of these days!"

"Then pull the bed away from the wall or throw one of those bulky blankets over it," House retorted, clearly annoyed. "You _have_ enough of them!"

She looked at him disapprovingly but he just shrugged his shoulders. As slowly as he could, he enunciated "Relationships require _C-O-M-P-R-O-M-I-S-E. _Or so the great, thrice-divorced love doctor, Dr. James Wilson, tells me."

"Don't bring up Wilson when we're naked," she quietly admonished, her hand smacking his belly.

"Don't bring Rachel up," he countered with a grimace before his expression slowly transformed, his eyes having wandered back to her body, a smirk taking over his mouth as his eyes trekked a course across her form for the first time since the talking had begun, crawling ever so slowly over her, causing her to blush even more.

No one had to tell her. Cuddy sighed, knowing he'd won. _Soundproof her walls? _It'd be easier to just move, solely looking at the convenience factor. And that was saying something.

"What do I get out of this deal?" she asked, moping.

House's eyes narrowed as he thought about it, contemplatively. He pursed his mouth but then said, "You get to keep using sex to control me."

Cuddy grimaced at his proposed offer. "But if you don't want me to control you and you think I'm doing that with sex, how does my continuing to do that work for _you?"_ she asked doubtfully. "How is that not contrary to everything you're complaining about?"

House smirked, his eyes meeting hers as his eyebrows wiggled. "You get mad at me; you push by taking sex off the table. I get mad at you and push back and you're suddenly falling all over yourself to get sex _back_ on the table, offering yourself up to me like you're candy. I don't know. There's a nice…" Cuddy's jaw was now clenching as she glared at him but he ignored that, his eyes flicking down to her breasts. "…_Symmetry _to it," he concluded, his double meaning not going unnoticed.

Cuddy tried to maintain her irritated expression but she quickly had to turn her head away in an attempt to hide the smile that was now tugging at her mouth as his hands came up to cup her chest enthusiastically.

"That's it?" she checked suspiciously. "You only have two conditions for getting back together?"

House's mouth twitched from side to side as he processed but then he glanced away before saying soberly, "You have to be willing to accept that I'm never going to be _Mr. Perfect_ in order for this to work, Cuddy."

"How about Mr. Perfect _FOR ME?_" she suggested teasingly, reaching out to brush her knuckles against his cheek.

"Spreading it on a little thick, aren't we?" he droned, rolling his eyes.

She just smiled.

"You sound like Wilson," he added, intentionally breaking her rule to provoke her.

It was successful because she instantly glared at him, muttering, "_Not _when we're naked House."

House smirked in reply but then added more seriously, "And you need to go to the doctor and get checked out."

"I called yesterday. I have an appointment tomorrow afternoon," she admitted readily, nodding.

House nodded back, studying her concernedly before he tried to push the thought away since there was nothing he could do at the present, reminding himself she was waiting for him to play doctor with him in _another_ sense of the word and smiling lopsidedly in accordance.

Cuddy bit her lip, smiling back at him even though she hadn't the faintest idea why he was smiling like that.

Playfully suggesting in a drawl, House hinted, "_So_… wanna make out to seal the deal?"

Cuddy bit back her smile and then managed to expel an irked breath as if she hadn't just been looking at him rather dreamily, mumbling, "You're insufferable," before her gaze met his and she moistened her lips, her body bending to bring her lips to his, brushing them lightly against his and then leaving him opportunity to capture hers again, initiating the next.

"If only you'd been this easy a week ago," he mumbled against her lips.

"Shut up," she told him before focusing on making sure he did, negotiations now closed. For the present time anyway.


End file.
